The Life and Times of Linnea Potter
by Lykinia
Summary: Linnea Potter has lived under the tyranny of her relatives for the better part of 10 years. When she receives a mysterious letter, however, her life changes forever...Follow Linnea through her years at Hogwarts as she takes her rightful place in the Wizarding world - Currently 1st summer. femHarry AU-My first fanfic :-) Disclaimer: JK owns this world, I'm just playing around in it
1. Linnea Potter

She had done it again.

Or at least, they blamed her. She couldn't see how it was her fault, however; the glass had simply disappeared and the snake had taken its opportunity to flee the zoo. That was not her fault. How could it be?

Her explanations never carried much water with the Dursleys. They wholeheartedly blamed the entire ordeal and ruining their son's birthday celebration on her. This earned her a long stint in the dark cupboard that was her bedroom.

Ten-year-old Linnea Potter lay on her bed, staring up at the roof of her cupboard, which was adorned with spiders. They didn't bother her; she had been living in the cupboard under the stairs for as long as she could remember and the spiders were her only companions in all that time. The Dursleys rarely visited her cupboard, only doing so to rap on the door and bark out a fresh set of orders for her. She handled most of the chores around the house and yet could not be afforded regular meals.

She sighed as a pang of hunger swept through her stomach and sat up. She had not eaten for at least two days now. She looked demurely into the small mirror on the door, her grey cat's eyes sweeping disapprovingly over her reflection. She didn't much like her appearance. She had always been smaller than most girls her age, but her features made her feel significantly so. She had a tiny frame and thin face, set with a dainty nose, delicate mouth and a dimple on her right cheek. Her dark red hair was cut to just barely reach the nape of her neck; she kept a small fringe, however, to hide the scar that marred her pale skin.

It sat on her forehead, shaped like a bolt of lightning, a memento of the car accident that had claimed her parents' lives. She hated it. It was a constant reminder of what she could not remember, but had lost. Her parents' demise was the reason why she had to live with the Dursleys.

Her aunt, Petunia Dursley, was Linnea's mother's sister. She and her husband, Vernon Dursley, had taken her in to live with them alongside their son Dudley, her cousin. Such a tale would have touched a casual observer, but Linnea often wondered why they had bothered to put her up. The Dursleys hated her, there was no other word for it. She rarely got more than one meal a day, and that was if she was lucky enough not to be under suspicion for something. Her clothes were barely more than rags, having all been purchased at dingy second hand shops for half a pound. Her aunt was the one who had mercilessly cut her hair, claiming that she cost the family enough without any cosmetic maintenance.

Dudley, however, was constantly doted upon by his parents. He always got the best gifts and toys, new and expensive clothes, and was fed a little too well, making him beefy for his age. He would look just like his father when he grew up. His misdeeds and bad grades had always been ignored by his parents, and he had become spoiled for it. He was the fearsome local bully and led a gang of delinquents in terrorizing the children of the neighborhood. He did, at least, avoid harassing girls too much, which kept Linnea as safe as she could be from him.

A sharp knock on the door interrupted her musings. She heard the latch slide out of the lock and in came Aunt Petunia with some bread on a plate and half a glass of water.

'Eat,' she snapped. 'Then come prepare breakfast.'

_Oh, it's morning_, Linnea thought as she took her measly breakfast. She had lost track of the time, seeing as she had neither a watch nor a clock in her cupboard. Her aunt immediately left, leaving her to struggle with the stale bread. She didn't much care, though; she was far too hungry for that.

'Hurry up, girl!' Her voice was like the crack of a whip. Linnea ate as fast as the tough bread could allow, then stood up and made her way down the hall into the kitchen.

Number Four, Privet Drive had always been a pristinely clean house, owing to her aunt's clean freak tendencies. Each surface was absolutely spotless. The house cleaning was the one chore that Linnea was saved from. She often wondered if her aunt thought that she would end up making everything dirtier than it had been before.

She brought out some eggs, sausages and bacon and began fixing breakfast, watched through narrowed eyes by Aunt Petunia, who sat in a corner sipping tea. She blended fresh orange juice, sliced tomatoes and made toast. Once she had gotten over the initial failures and resulting punishments, Linnea had found that she actually liked cooking. It was the one time where she was truly safe from the Dursleys; they never interrupted her while she cooked.

She had just finished setting the table when her uncle and cousin came in. They both said "Good morning" to Petunia, who joined them at the table, and ignored Linnea, who stood a little away from the family, waiting on her relatives as they ate. She looked towards the window sill and let out an inaudible sigh. Her flowers had dried up again. Her vase sat next to that of her aunt, which contained a vibrant bouquet of petunias.

Her aunt had once told her that girls in their family were traditionally named after flowers, which was why she kept a vase of petunias on the window sill. Then, as though angry at Linnea for this revelation, she had ordered her to tend to the garden in the backyard, which had been overrun by weeds. Linnea had gone out the next day and found a bunch of her namesake flower. She had taken them home and put them in a spare vase next to her aunt's. Oddly enough, Aunt Petunia hadn't objected to this. Linnea supposed that it must have been something she and her sister had done with their own mother. She would not, however, care for the flowers in any way and they had of course dried up while she had been imprisoned in the cupboard.

_I'll have to go get a fresh bunch_, she thought as the gentle _flop_ of the mail landing on the doormat reached their ears.

'Go get the mail, girl!' barked Uncle Vernon. Linnea hastened into the hall to obey.

Three envelopes lay there: a postcard from Uncle Vernon's sister, Marge, who was on holiday, a bill and -

Linnea stared at the final envelope which was made of yellowish parchment. There, in emerald green ink, was _her _name as the addressee. Someone had sent her a letter. But who? She didn't have any correspondents and she had definitely never sent a letter to anyone either. The address, however, was so plain that she did not doubt that there was no mistake.

_Miss L. Potter_

_The Cupboard under the Stairs_

_4 Privet Drive_

_Little Whinging_

_Surrey_

Linnea turned the envelope over, still staring in consternation at the first bit of post she had ever received. There was a purple wax seal on the back bearing a coat of arms: a lion, eagle, serpent and badger united around a large letter H.

'Would you hurry up, girl!' shouted Uncle Vernon.

Linnea ignored him. The other two letters dropped to the floor, long forgotten, as she tore open the envelope. There were two other pieces of parchment inside. She pulled one out and smoothed it over

_HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY_

_Headmaster: Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore_

_(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot,_

_Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards)_

_Dear Miss Potter,_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31._

_Owing to your living situation, a school representative will call on your residence at 9:00 a.m. on June 26 to explain the situation to your guardians and assist you in any means necessary._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Minerva McGonagall,_

_Deputy Headmistress._

Linnea felt her breath stop. Then her heart dropped. Was this a prank?

She shook her head. No, something told her that this was not a prank or a joke. But then what was it? If this letter was to be believed, then she was a _witch_. She shook her head again. No, that was impossible. There was no such thing as magic, her aunt and uncle had shouted that fact at her plenty of times. They had seemed determined to squash her imagination as much as they could. As to why, she had no idea.

_But wouldn't this be a reason?_ she asked herself. _What if I really am a witch and they knew? But how could they know? Could my parents have been…?_

She thought back to all the times she had been blamed for something that she had had no way of causing. She had deemed many of these occurrences as impossible, but dismissed them when she could not find any plausible explanation as to how they happened. Magic would definitely explain them - all of them.

She was shaking as she pulled out the second piece of parchment and read.

_HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY_

_All first year students require the following items to attend Hogwarts_

_UNIFORM_

_1. Three sets of plain work robes (black)_

_2. One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear_

_3. One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)_

_4. One winter cloak (black, silver fastenings)_

_Please note that all pupils' clothes should carry name tags_

_SET BOOKS_

_All students should have a copy of each of the following_

_1. The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1) by Miranda Goshawk_

_2. A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot_

_3. Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling_

_4. A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration by Emeric Switch_

_5. One Thousand Herbs and Magical Fungi by Phyllida Spore_

_6. Magical Drafts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger_

_7. Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander_

_8. The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection by Quentin Trimble_

_OTHER EQUIPMENT_

_1 wand_

_1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)_

_1 set glass or crystal phials_

_1 telescope_

_1 set brass scales_

_Students may also bring an owl OR a cat OR a toad_

_Students may also bring a set of basic potion-making ingredients_

_PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST-YEARS ARE_

_NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS_

Linnea's breath came in short bursts as she continued staring at the contents of her letter long after she was done reading them. She was a witch. The thought was a statement, not a question. She knew it was true. It would explain everything - the inexplicable accidents, the way her relatives treated her. The shock was starting to fade away and be replaced by a growing elation. She had something that the Dursleys didn't, and they hated her for it. She was special, despite their claims of her being just as worthless as her mother had supposedly been. She was going to go to this Hogwarts, not the terrible public school that they had picked out for her. The bubble of joy inside her continued to grow.

'What are you doing?' The voice brought her back to earth. She looked down the hall to see Aunt Petunia staring at her venomously. Without a word, Linnea raised the parchment she was holding so her aunt could see it. Her suspicions were confirmed as the horse-faced woman's eyes widened and her skin lost all color. She knew what the letter was.

'Vernon! Vernon, come quickly!'

Linnea saw something in her aunt's eyes that she never had before: fear. She was afraid of Linnea.

Uncle Vernon and Dudley came charging into the hall as fast as their bulk could allow. 'Petunia, what is it?' her uncle asked. In response, her aunt pointed a bony finger at her. Vernon's eyes rested on Linnea and her letter and for a moment he frowned in confusion. Then he went white.

'Is - is that -?' he stammered. Petunia nodded. A long silence followed, during which Dudley's confused 'What's going on?' went unanswered. Finally, Vernon seemed to come back to himself.

'Dudley,' he said in a hoarse voice. 'Go outside and play with your friends. Girl - Linnea -' It was the first time that Uncle Vernon had ever spoken her name. '- go into your cupboard and stay there until we call you.'

For a moment, Dudley looked like he wanted to argue. But even he seemed to notice that defying his father at the moment would not be the wisest choice. He went down the hall, pushing past Linnea as she placed the letter in Uncle Vernon's outstretched hand. She heard him close the front door even as she shut her own. She was mildly surprised that her aunt didn't lock her in. She lay once more on her bed, her mind buzzing with a torrent of thoughts.


	2. Welcome to the Wizarding World

'Linnea, come to the kitchen.'

If someone would have told her yesterday that Aunt Petunia would use such a civil tone to address her, Linnea would have slapped them in the face. She pushed her door open and went to the kitchen.

Most of the day had passed since Linnea got the letter and nightfall was quickly coming. Aunt Petunia was seated at the table with a cup of steaming tea in her hands. Uncle Vernon was pacing back and forth. He stopped when Linnea entered. There was a long uncomfortable silence before he cleared his throat and started to speak.

'You read the letter, yes?' he said. The shock of not being barked at made her take a moment to nod. 'Well, you've probably worked out that you are…different.' He paused, but Linnea remained silent so he continued, not without difficulty. 'You'll be going to that school when it is time. I will not be paying for you.'

This didn't surprise Linnea in the least, though it did present a problem with regards to her shopping. She had a more pressing question for her uncle. 'Are you kicking me out?' She hadn't meant to be so blunt, but she couldn't fix that now.

'No, we aren't.' Her aunt was the one who answered. 'You will still be staying with us over the summer.'

'That being said,' her uncle continued. 'We will not tolerate any unnatural behavior around the house. Whatever it is that you need to do, keep it in your room and keep it out of sight - and away from us and Dudley.'

'My room? You mean the cupboard?'

'No. You will be moving into Dudley's second bedroom.'

Linnea frowned. She was shocked, to say the least, at the calm response of her guardians. She thought that they would have denied everything outright, or refused for her to go to Hogwarts or worse, thrown her out of the house. As much as she disliked them, Linnea counted herself very lucky to actually have a roof, albeit an unwilling one, over her head. She was glad that they weren't taking any drastic actions, but couldn't help but wonder at the reasons behind their decision.

She nodded to show her agreement. A lot of questions had been left unanswered, but she knew better than to ask them. She would have to wait for the school representative that was supposedly coming.

'This person that is coming tomorrow,' Vernon said, as though he had heard what she had been thinking. 'The two of you will leave immediately when they arrive. I won't have them staying in my house, understood?'

Linnea nodded again. Her uncle waved his hand in a shooing motion to tell her that she could go. Once in her cupboard, she began arranging things in preparation to carrying them up to her new bedroom. Dudley wasn't back yet. She could not suppress a smile when she imagined his reaction to the changes that would be occurring in his home.

* * *

Just as the clock on the wall hit 9, there was a booming knock on the front door.

Linnea bolted out of her room and took the stairs at a run, eager to meet the visitor. She opened the door to find herself staring at a wall draped in a large coat.

'Ummm, hello?' she said uncertainly.

''Ello, Lin, good ter see yeh - yeh don' mind if I call yeh Lin, do yeh?' a warm, booming voice said.

'Not at all.' Linnea was annoyed when her voice came out almost as a squeak. 'I'm sorry, but I can't actually see you very well, sir.'

'Oh, sorry abou' that.' He moved back, revealing a giant of a man with wild black hair and beard and warm black eyes. He was smiling at her fondly. 'Call me Hagrid,' he said, extending a hand many times bigger than her head. 'Keeper o' the Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts - yeh know all abou' Hogwarts, o' course.'

'A bit,' Linnea answered as she had her entire arm shaken. Remembering what Uncle Vernon had said the previous night, she hastily shut the door behind her and joined the giant outside, all the while staring at him. 'The letter said you would come help me. What will you be helping me with, sir?'

'Yeh were raised in a Muggle house, so yeh probably don't know yer way around our world. I'm here ter help yeh get yer first-year shoppin' squared away,' he answered, then added, 'An' no need teh call me "sir".'

'Muggle? You mean people like my aunt and uncle, people without magic?' Hagrid nodded. 'Alright. I actually have a small problem with the shopping list: I don't have any money. My uncle won't pay for me either.'

'Don' worry abou' that,' Hagrid said, waving a hand airily; Linnea stepped away to avoid getting concussed. 'Yeh didn' think yer parents left yeh with nothin', did yeh?'

'You knew my parents?' Linnea asked swiftly. She was starting to get excited again - she might be able to get some of her more personal questions answered.

'I did, yeah. But we'll talk later, Lin, we really should be gettin' a move on.' Hagrid pulled out a pink umbrella from the depths of his moleskin coat. Holding it in his right hand, he jabbed it forwards.

A resounding _bang_ rent the ear that made Linnea clap her hands over her ears. They fell back to her sides, however, as she noticed a purple double-decker bus materialize to their right and drive up in front of them. She gaped as a young man jumped out of it and said, in a rehearsed sort of way, 'Welcome to the Knight Bus, emergency transport for the stranded -'

'I know, I know,' Hagrid interrupted, at which the young man looked miffed. Then he saw Hagrid and chuckled to himself. 'Come on, Lin, let's go.'

Linnea stepped into the bus. It didn't have the sort of seats she was accustomed to seeing; instead, there were comfortable-looking chairs set around little tables. It made her think of a café. She turned around at a tap on her shoulder and took the little ticket that the conductor was offering her. Then he gaped.

''Ere, look, isn't it -?'

'We're in a bit of a hurry there, Stan,' Hagrid interrupted again. Stan nodded, still staring at Linnea as though he couldn't believe his eyes. She hastily went to join Hagrid at the seat he had chosen.

'Take it away, Ernie,' Stan called. A moment later, there was another _bang_.

Unprepared, Linnea felt herself fly - or she would have if Hagrid hadn't caught her. Her mouth opened in surprise again as she noticed that their surroundings outside the window were completely different.

'What just happened?' she asked.

'We jumped, is all.' It was Stan who answered; he had come over to them supporting himself on the furniture as the bus took some turns that should definitely have lost the driver his license. 'Where to, Hagrid?'

'Leaky Cauldron, as fast as yeh can.'

'Right.' Stan was still staring at her with a look of awe on his face. She noticed that his eyes kept flicking upwards to the scar on her forehead. She shifted uncomfortably. She already hated it and did not want more attention drawn to it.

'So, Lin, yeh had some questions?' Hagrid said. He gave Stan a significant look and he went to check on some other passengers.

'Yes,' Linnea answered as there was another _bang_ and she was thrown sideways into Hagrid. 'You said you knew my parents?'

'I did - Lily and James Potter, good people.'

'They went to Hogwarts as well?'

'That's right,' Hagrid answered, looking down at Linnea curiously.

'I haven't been told anything about my parents,' she explained. Hagrid nodded slowly. 'How did they die? I find it hard to believe that someone with magic would have been killed in a car accident.'

'Car accident?' Hagrid appeared, looking back down at her in shock. She tried to keep her face impassive as he let out a growl, but she shook a little nonetheless. 'Is tha' what them Dursleys told yeh? Well, yer right, they didn't die in a car crash.' He forestalled Linnea as she opened her mouth. 'I'll tell yeh as much as I can, Lin, but later - we're here.'

The bus suddenly stopped and she lurched forward; Hagrid caught her again. She shakily stood up and followed Hagrid outside. They were in the middle of London, surrounded by crowds of people. In the corner of her eye, she saw the purple bus take off and after another _bang_, it was gone. No one else seemed to have noticed its existence.

'Stick close, Lin,' Hagrid said as he walked forward, parting the crowds easily enough for her to have no trouble keeping behind him. He stopped at the door to a pub with a sign above it that said "The Leaky Cauldron". 'Now, Lin,' he said, 'I want yeh ter be ready. Yeh probably noticed how Stan back there was lookin' at yeh, right? Well it's goin' ter be the same in here. Stay close ter me.' He opened the door and she followed him inside.

It was quite dark and shabby on the inside. A haze of pipe smoke hung in the air and the smell of spirits, from cooking sherry to whiskey, permeated the pub. Everyone seemed to know Hagrid, as they smiled and raised their glasses when they saw him. The bald bartender likewise smiled while he wiped a glass clean.

'The usual, Hagrid?' he asked.

'Not today, Tom, I'm on Hogwarts business,' Hagrid answered as he placed one of his large hands on Linnea's shoulder, causing her knees to buckle slightly.

Tom the bartender looked at her curiously for a moment, and then his eyes found her scar, and they immediately widened. 'Bless my soul,' he said in a voice that carried throughout the room. 'Linnea Potter.'

The entire pub went quiet at the sound of her name and everyone turned to look at her. Just like Stan, awe was written across their faces. There was a sudden scrape of chairs as they all rushed forwards to greet her and shake her hand. They were all welcoming her - some even had tears in their eyes as they practically wrung her hand. She even met one of her teachers, Professor Quirrell, a pale man with a large purple turban on his head. The moment she took his hand, however, something she had never experienced before happened.

'Ow!' she yelped as her hand flew up to her forehead, where her scar had just seared with a sharp pain.

'All righ' there, Lin?' Hagrid asked in a worried voice.

'I'm fine,' she replied, slowly lowering her hand. She looked at Professor Quirrell, who looked more nervous than ever. He hastily excused himself and left through the back door of the pub. Linnea watched him go with a frown forming on her face. Having spent much of her life stuttering in fear of her aunt and uncle, she was convinced she could identify a fake stutter when she heard one - and Professor Quirrell certainly seemed to be faking in her opinion. And then the pain when he had touched her…yes, she definitely did not like the young teacher.

After assuring Hagrid that she was indeed okay, they followed Professor Quirrell through the exit he had used and came to a dead end in the form of a brick wall.

'Hagrid,' she said, unable to contain herself. 'All those people - the ones in the pub and Stan - they all seem to know my name. And they always recognize me when they see my scar. Why do so many people know about me?'

'I know I haven't answered any of yer questions yet, Lin, an' I bet yer confused. I promise yeh can ask me all yeh like after we done yer shopping, an' I'll answer everythin' I can, all righ'?'

Linnea nodded and watched as Hagrid raised his umbrella and tapped some of the bricks in a sequence which she hastily tried to remember. When he was done, the bricks immediately began collapsing upon each other to reveal a large archway onto a winding cobbled street.

'This, Lin,' he said, smiling at the incredulous look on the girl's face, 'is Diagon Alley. We'll do yer shopping here.'

Linnea stepped forward, looking around with great interest and excitement. There were so many things that she did not recognize, not to mention the people - they were so many, mostly dressed in robes and pointed hats. She wanted more than anything to run about and explore, but she kept close to Hagrid as he once again cleaved his way through the crowd. He led her towards a tall, noble-looking white marble building.

'This is Gringotts, the Wizarding bank,' Hagrid said. 'Guarded by goblins, yeh know, so yeh'd have ter be mad ter try and rob it. Safest place in the world to keep somethin' protected - except perhaps Hogwarts, o' course. We'll go collect yer money from yer vault in there.'

Linnea could only stare at the building. Somewhere in there, her parents had left her money. She had never actually held and used money for herself in all her life. She had always dreamed one day of having some and being able to fend for herself. Despite her dream coming true, she still felt sad at the thought that her parents couldn't have been there to take care of her themselves. Together, she and Hagrid entered the building.

Minutes later, they were back in front of Gringotts bank. Linnea had been pleasantly surprised to find her underground vault filled to the brim with coins of gold, silver and bronze - Galleons, Sickles and Knuts. In her pocket was a pouch filled with the Wizarding money and the key to her vault. She had converted some of it into pounds as well, for when she went back to the Dursleys. She was itching to get started but was waiting for Hagrid to recover from the wild cart ride that had taken them down to the vaults.

Hagrid had made a withdrawal as well, from vault seven hundred and thirteen. All he had taken was a grubby little package. She could not imagine what it was and was dying to ask him, but she knew better. He had already asked her not to speak about the withdrawal with anyone.

'Right,' he said, straightening up to his full height. 'Let's get yeh a trunk first - yeh'll need it ter carry the rest o' yer stuff around.'

He led the way to the nearest shop. The sign at its front said "Twiloft's General Wizarding Goods". It was filled with all manner of knickknacks that she had never seen before. The shopkeeper, Mr. Twiloft, was a cheerful man who beamed at the little girl when Hagrid explained that they needed a trunk. He beamed even more when he spotted her scar and hastened from behind the counter to help her.

'What kind of trunk would you like?' he asked kindly.

'I don't rightly know, sir,' she admitted. The smile on the man's face widened even more, presumably at being addressed as "sir". He gave her an explanation of the trunks that he had in store. One in particular caught her interest - a single trunk with more than one storage space. He brought one out for demonstration and Linnea smiled happily as she watched the compartment change each time the key was inserted in a different lock. She took a double-compartment trunk and paid twenty-one Galleons for it. She found a nice brass telescope there as well and put it in her new trunk.

Hagrid carried it for her as they made their way outside. Consulting her list, he led the way to Potage's Cauldron Shop, where she bought a collapsible pewter cauldron along with a stirring rod. Next was the Apothecary, which had an…interesting scent. She got her brass scales and crystal phials there. The shop attendant even filled out a case with basic potion ingredients for her. Her interest in magical potions was peaked by this shop. The labels on the jars contained all sorts of things, from salamander blood to dragon liver. She really couldn't wait to find out what she could create with them.

Hagrid decided that she ought to get her books next, and so they made their way to Flourish and Blotts. He waited outside while she entered the shop. It was largely empty, save for the shelves upon shelves of books lined up all along the walls. Small tables standing here and there were also laid with columns of books. The smell of paper and bound leather near nauseated her. Thoroughly helpless, all she could do was look around, trying to figure out what to do. An attendant thankfully spotted her in her distress.

'Hello, dear - first year at Hogwarts?' the woman asked kindly, to which Linnea responded with a nod. 'You'll want to go to that shelf over there, where that red-headed family is.' Linnea nodded again in thanks and walked over.

It was a large family, all with flaming red hair, rather far from her dark hue. Four sons and one daughter stood around their mother as they looked for the relevant books. Linnea spotted _One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi_, and stretched out a hand for it - just as another did.

'Sorry,' the red-haired boy said hastily, drawing his hand back. He was likely Linnea's age, but was considerably taller than her, which made her irrationally miffed with herself. He had a long nose and freckles dotted his face.

'Not at all,' Linnea said with a smile. 'Go ahead.'

'Thanks,' the boy said, taking the book. 'You're probably looking for the next shelf - this is the second hand section.'

On closer inspection, Linnea saw that the book was a little tattered and its cover was frayed around the edges. She smiled at the boy again.

'I'm Ron,' he said. 'I'm starting Hogwarts this September, you too?'

'Yes,' Linnea replied. 'I'm Linnea, and a little overwhelmed, to be honest; I was raised by Muggles, you see.'

Ron opened his mouth to reply but another voice cut in, making him jump slightly.

'What's this? Seems ickle Ronniekinns has found himself a lady friend.'

A much similar voice, though belonging to another of the boys, joined in. 'It seems so. Mum will be overjoyed; we were starting to worry about you, little brother.'

'Shut up, George,' Ron snapped, his ears turning red. Who George was Linnea couldn't tell - the two boys were twins, identical down to the last freckle. They looked much like their younger brother.

'Hello,' she said, smiling again, 'my name is Linnea.'

'We're Fred and George,' one of the twins replied. 'The mob here is our family. Looking for your first-year books, I suppose?' When Linnea nodded, he continued, 'You'll want the next shelf, these are the second hand books.'

'I already told her that,' Ron said sourly.

'I'm sorry, Ronnie, but we can't really rely on you to point damsels in the right direction, now can we?'

'The poor girl could end up stewing in a cauldron,' another twin added with a fake shiver.

Linnea smiled as Ron's face turned red and the twins snickered at him. She liked this family. She shook herself as she remembered that Hagrid was waiting for her outside and excused herself to the shelf that the boys had pointed out to her.

'Got everythin' yeh need?' the giant asked as she emerged. She nodded and tipped the books into the trunk as Hagrid held it open. 'Right, we'll go get yer robes next.' Linnea followed him to Madam Malkin's Robes for all Occasions. He waited outside again as she entered the shop.

'Hello, dear - Hogwarts robes?' a smiling witch asked her as soon as she crossed the door. Linnea nodded and was led to the back of the shop, where a pale boy with platinum blond hair and a pointed face was standing on a stool while another witch pinned up his black robes. Linnea stood on the stool next to him and the witch who she had met at the door slipped a long robe over her head and began pinning it.

'Hello,' the boy said in a bored, drawling voice. 'Hogwarts too?'

'Yes,' Linnea replied.

'My father's at Flourish and Blotts buying my books and Mother's at the Apothecary.'

'I've got my books already,' Linnea said cheerfully. 'I think I'll be getting my wand next.'

The boy nodded slowly. 'I'm going to drag them to look at racing brooms after we're done. I don't see why first years can't have their own. D'you play Quidditch?'

Linnea frowned. 'What's Quidditch?'

The blond boy turned his head to look at her with narrowed eyes. They were grey, but rather unlike her own; they were duller, not to mention much colder.

'I was raised by Muggles,' Linnea proceeded to explain. 'I never met my parents - they died a long time ago.'

'Oh, sorry,' the boy said. Linnea frowned at the lack of sincerity in his voice. 'They were _our_ kind, though, weren't they?'

'Ummm…' Linnea was thinking about the implications of this question. 'They were a witch and wizard if that's what you mean.'

The boy nodded in satisfaction. 'I really don't think they should let the other sort in, do you? They're just not the same, are they?'

'I'm sorry, I don't really understand what you're talking about,' Linnea confessed.

The boy sighed in boredom. 'D'you know which house you'll belong to yet?'

'At Hogwarts? I wasn't aware that there are houses.'

'There are four,' the boy said. His voice indicated that he was fast losing any interest in talking to her. 'Slytherin, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff and Gryffindor. I know I'll be going to Slytherin, my entire family has been. If not, I'd rather leave the school than go to _Hufflepuff_.' He said the last word with such contempt that Linnea almost stumbled off the stool. 'I mean, I can't even imagine it. A lot of the time it comes down to family though. What's your surname, anyway?'

'Potter,' Linnea replied, now looking resolutely in the mirror set in front of the stool.

The pale boy and the witches pinning up their robes froze and looked at her. The awe she had seen in the patrons of the Leaky Cauldron was reflected in their faces. The witches continued working after a few moments, but kept glancing up at her.

'_Linnea_ Potter?' the boy asked incredulously. When Linnea nodded, he hastily continued, 'I'm sorry, I didn't realize who you were. I'm Draco Malfoy. Are you here alone or…?'

'I'm here with Hagrid, he works at Hogwarts.' Out of the corner of her eye, she could see that Draco recognized the name; his face had soured for a moment but he had quickly composed his features back into smoothness.

'Ah, Father often speaks of him. Well, after you are done with your shopping, would you care to -'

'That's you finished, dear,' the witch working on her said. Draco glared at her for interrupting while Linnea hopped down off the stool.

'I'm sorry,' she said, turning back to the blond boy. 'I won't be able to stay much longer, but I will see you at Hogwarts.'

'I suppose,' Draco replied. 'Well, goodbye, then.'

Linnea went back to the front of the shop and waited as they cut up her robes. She also purchased a pointed hat, black dragon hide gloves and a winter cloak as listed. Once she was outside, she deposited the shopping into her trunk again.

'Looks like all yeh need now is a wand - an' a pet if yer feelin' up ter gettin' one.'

'I think I will,' said Linnea, 'but let's get that wand first.'

Hagrid smiled and led her down the street until they came to Ollivander's Wand Shop. This time, they both went in.

The space in front of the counter was rather plain apart from the chair that Hagrid had just sat in, but behind it were shelves filled with rows upon rows of velvet boxes. There was a man there, whom she supposed was Ollivander. He was old, with wide, pale eyes that made her inwardly shiver.

'Ah,' he said in a quiet voice. It was barely more than a whisper, but she could catch every word clearly. 'Yes, I was thinking it was about time for me to see you here, Miss Potter.'

Linnea had no answer to this; she simply stepped forward. Ollivander, however, went to his shelves and pulled out some of the boxes, which he lay on the counter. Looking at them, Linnea saw that each of their lids was inscribed with his name. He opened one and pulled out a wand.

'Beechwood and dragon heartstring, nine inches. Nice and flexible.' He handed the wand to Linnea, who simply stared at it. 'Give it a wave,' the old man said almost impatiently.

Linnea waved the wand and a glass standing at the far end of the counter promptly shattered.

'No,' Ollivander said slowly, taking the wand from her and putting it back in its box. He took another out. 'Maple and phoenix feather, seven inches. Quite whippy. Give it a try.'

Linnea waved the wand and a large crack appeared in the wooden counter.

Ollivander took that wand from her as well. 'Ebony and unicorn hair,' he said, passing her another one, 'eight-and-a-half inches. Springy.'

When she waved the wand, a lot of the others in the back shot out of their shelves into a frightful mess.

And so it went for about ten minutes. Each time Ollivander presented her with a new wand and she waved it, some small disaster befell the shop. When she expressed concern that she was destroying the place, Ollivander waved off her words as though such a thing were barely worth notice. He kept bringing wand after wand out for her, but whatever it was he was waiting for didn't seem to be happening.

Finally, he just stood there staring at her, his finger rubbing his chin thoughtfully. He stayed silent for a moment, then said to himself, 'I wonder…could she - yes, why not…' He went to the back and brought out another box. He took out the wand and handed it out to her. 'Holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches. Nice and supple.' Linnea reached out to take it.

The moment her skin made contact with the wood, she felt her fingers burn as if they were on fire and she promptly dropped the wand.

'Ow! What was that?' she cried, looking at her hand. Her fingers were red raw where she had touched the wand.

'I'm sorry, my dear,' Ollivander said hastily. He pulled out his own wand and waved it towards Linnea's hand, and a feeling of relief swept through it. Her fingers were back to normal.

'_Accio wand_.' The dropped wand zoomed into Ollivander's hand and he put it back in its box. He looked down at it for a moment and then looked up at Linnea. 'My apologies, Miss Potter. I must admit, I have never seen quite an…adverse reaction such as that. The wand chooses the wizard, you see, and it would appear that this wand does not want to be anywhere near you. The lack of compatibility is not unexpected, but nonetheless disappointing.'

The old man lapsed into silence again, staring at Linnea intently. He was apparently at a loss as he considered her.

'You seem to be a very special witch, Miss Potter,' he said abruptly. 'Never before have I taken this long to match a wizard with their rightful wand. And as I said, never before have I seen a reaction such as what you have experienced. Please wait here while I contact a colleague of mine.'

Ollivander disappeared into the back of his shop, leaving Linnea and Hagrid to stare around at the mess that she had caused. They stayed there in silence for close to ten minutes before he came back, bearing some more boxes. These had the name _Gregorovitch_ on the lids. 'Gregorovitch is a fellow wand maker,' Ollivander said, noticing Linnea's gaze. 'He and I disagree on some finer points of wandlore, but I consider him an equal, if not greater wand maker than I.' Ollivander pulled a wand out of its box. 'He was quite insistent that you should try this wand first.'

Linnea's eyes had been drawn to it even as it left its box. It was longer than the wands she had tried so far. Its handle was ridged with a small purple gemstone set at the end. What appeared to be tendrils of fine gold thread snaked their way towards the wand tip, fading away shy of an inch. Linnea was sure that this piece of wood was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen in her life.

'I have never favored rather…_embellished _wands, but Gregorovitch does occasionally take the time to create a few. What is important, of course, is whether the wand is attuned to you. Take it.'

Linnea took the wand and felt an inexplicable feeling of pleasure sweep through her. She waved the wand, and this time a shower of purple and gold sparks shot out of the tip, bathing the shop in a strange light. Her mouth curved in a smile as Ollivander and Hagrid let out a sigh of relief. _Finally_.

'It seems that Gregorovitch knew what he was doing in sending that particular wand,' Ollivander said with a smile. 'That will be eight Galleons, Miss Potter. You can rest assured that it will properly reach Gregorovitch.'

Linnea happily passed the money to Ollivander. She didn't know why, but she couldn't keep her eyes off her wand. 'Mr. Ollivander, how does someone keep their wand in good condition?' she asked.

'Ah, you may purchase a wand cleaning kit at Twiloft's General Wizarding Goods,' Ollivander answered, smiling at her. 'Wands require little more than cleaning. You will just have to treat it as best as you can.'

Linnea nodded and turned to leave. Hagrid was already at the door.

'Miss Potter, I have yet to tell you what your wand is composed of.'

She turned back around with an apology. Ollivander smiled at her again.

'Your wand is made of yew, fourteen inches, unyielding in its nature.' Ollivander frowned. 'Its core is a Thestral tail hair.'

Linnea heard Hagrid gasp at that and she too frowned.

'I have never used such a substance in wand making, Miss Potter, and this wand itself is Gregorovitch's first attempt at it. It only affirms me in my suspicions that you must not be an average witch, Miss Potter.' Ollivander frowned again. 'The last wand of yew that I sold went out into the world to do terrible things - terrible _and_ great. I find it interesting that you should possess a wand made of the same substance when _that_ wand is what gave you that scar, Miss Potter.'

Linnea's eyes widened slightly. She reflexively reached up to touch her forehead. 'Who owned that wand?'

'Oh, we do not speak his name, Miss Potter. The things he did…' Ollivander's voice trailed away. 'I look forward to watching your progress in our world, Miss Potter.'

With that, the wand maker turned and set about repairing his shop. Linnea hurriedly left.

* * *

After leaving Ollivander's, Linnea and Hagrid went once more to Twiloft's, where she bought a wand cleaning kit for two Galleons and ten Sickles. Afterwords, they found themselves at Eeylops Owl Emporium and Magical Menagerie, from where they came with Linnea holding a carrier in which lay a beautiful snowy white Siberian cat, her eyes the color of dazzling emeralds. She was racking her brain trying to come up with an appropriate name for her, but none had come to mind yet.

Hagrid took her to Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor. They sat down to eat the largest sundaes that Linnea had ever seen in her life. She could not fully enjoy it, however, as she was thinking of a way to broach the subjects she wanted to discuss with the gamekeeper.

'Yer awfully quiet, Lin - I thought yeh had some questions fer me?'

Linnea looked up. He was smiling at her, his black beetles eyes glittering. 'I do,' she said. 'But I actually don't know where to start.'

'Well why don' I start with yer parents an' how yeh got that scar?' When Linnea nodded, the giant continued, 'The firs' thing yeh need ter understand, Lin, is that not all wizards turn out good - some of 'em go bad. A few years back, there was a wizard who went very bad - as bad as yeh can go. His name was -' Hagrid faltered. Linnea watched him curiously as he sighed and scratched his head. 'Sorry. I don' like sayin' the name if I can help it - no one does. You heard Ollivander back in his shop, right? I suppose yeh need ter know, though.' He paused again. 'His name was Voldemort.' Hagrid shivered, which to Linnea was quite alarming. 'Now he - You-Know-Who, that's what most people call him - was gainin' a lot of power, an' a lot o' followers. They did terrible things, Lin. People were dyin' every day. No one knew who ter trust. They were dark days, Lin, very dark days.

'O' course, there were some who resisted, led by Albus Dumbledore - he's the headmaster o' Hogwarts. People always said that Dumbledore was the only wizard that You-Know-Who feared; he never attacked Hogwarts, yeh see. Anyway, yer parents were among the ones who resisted and fought You-Know-Who. Then one night, on Halloween, You-Know-Who showed up where yeh were living an' he - he killed yer parents.' Hagrid sniffed. 'An' then he tried ter kill yeh. But as yeh can guess, he failed. When he couldn't kill yeh, he just up an' disappeared, an' yeh survived with nothing but that scar on yer head.

'That's the reason why yer famous, Lin - yeh survived when he had killed many o' the best in our world, an' yeh did it when yeh were just a year old. Yer the Girl Who Lived, Lin, an' everyone knows who yeh are, an' yer story. That's why they all recognize yeh when they see yer scar.'

Hagrid fell silent, watching as she processed what he had told her with a slight frown on her face. She looked right into his eyes and he could see the sadness in her own.

'I'm famous because my parents died and I didn't? That's…' What it was she couldn't seem to say, for her voice trailed off. Instead she asked, 'But why did Voldemort -' Hagrid jumped at the name, causing their table to tremble. Linnea continued, '- want to kill a baby in the first place? He'd already gotten my parents hadn't he? And if he was so powerful and feared, how could he not be _able_ to kill a baby?'

'No one knows the answer to either question, Lin,' Hagrid replied morosely. 'No one knows why he tried ter kill yeh, or why he couldn't, but that's really what yer famous fer - stoppin' the most powerful Dark wizard that has ever been seen.' He paused again. 'But I think Ollivander's right, Lin - yer special.'

Linnea remembered Hagrid's gasp in the wand shop. 'What's a Thestral?'

'They're horses - winged horses, mind. The only people who can see 'em are people who've seen death.' He paused when Linnea closed her eyes. When she opened them, he could see even greater sadness in their depths. 'Like Ollivander said, I've never heard o' Thestral tail hair bein' in a wand before. Maybe yeh saw - _somethin'_ that night an' that's why it works for yeh. But yer the first, an' like I said, I agree wit' Ollivander about yeh.'

Linnea was starting to feel a little uncomfortable. She didn't see how she could be special, and certainly didn't want to have anyone having expectations of her. She said as much to Hagrid, who smiled at her sadly.

'I know it's hard ter be singled out, Lin, but yeh have ter deal with it. Every kid in our world grew up knowin' yer name, an' everyone else thinks yer special too - yeh saw 'em in the Leaky Cauldron. It might not be what yeh wanted, but yeh have ter live with it as best as yeh can.'

Linnea nodded. Hagrid was right; this fame, though not ideal, was part of who she was in the Wizarding world, and she could not just cast it away or ignore it.

'I met a family of redheads at Flourish and Blotts. Three of the boys were called Fred, George and Ron.'

'Ah, that'll be the Weasley family. They'll be havin' four kids at Hogwarts this year. They're pretty well known in our world.'

'I also met a boy in Madam Malkin's named Draco Malfoy.'

For the second time that day, Hagrid let out a growl and just as before, Linnea shook.

'I don' want ter prejudice yeh, Lin, but I want yeh ter be careful around him.' After a frown, Hagrid elaborated, 'When You-Know-Who vanished, his father, Lucius Malfoy, was accused o' bein' a Death Eater - someone in You-Know-Who's inner circle. He said he'd been forced ter do the things he'd done, an' he wasn' imprisoned. Thing is, he never really did prove he _wasn't_ in with You-Know-Who.'

She turned Hagrid's words over in her brain as she devoured her ice cream. It seemed she had a lot to be careful of when going to Hogwarts. They talked a little more, mostly about Hogwarts' four houses and Quidditch, which she learned was a sport played on broomsticks. She smiled when Hagrid told her that her father had been the best player at Hogwarts back in his school days.

With their ice creams finished, they rejoined the Muggle world through the Leaky Cauldron and Hagrid once again hailed the Knight Bus. They reached Privet Drive shortly thereafter and the gamekeeper hauled her trunk up to Number Four for her.

'Well, this is goodbye fer now, Lin,' he said, bending down and enveloping her in a hug that left her fighting to breathe. When he straightened back up, he rummaged in his pockets for a moment then pulled out what looked to be a train ticket and handed it to her. 'Yer ticket fer the Hogwarts Express. The train leaves at exactly eleven o'clock so don' be late. Yeh can use the Knight Bus ter get ter the station - just hold yer wand an' jab it in front o' yeh. Well, I'd better go now, take care of yerself, Lin.'

'Hagrid, wait,' Linnea said, suddenly remembering. 'The letter said that they "await my owl". What does that mean?'

'Blimey, I almost forgot!' Hagrid said with a shocked look on his face. 'It means yeh have ter send 'em a letter accepting yer place at Hogwarts. Don' worry abou' it, I'll sort it out for yeh.'

Linnea nodded, then smiled up at Hagrid, who turned to leave. She waved as the giant climbed back into the purple double-decker and it drove away, disappearing with another echoing bang. She looked around. There was not a soul in sight apart from herself. She sighed and turned to Number Four. She had just had the best day of her life, and she hadn't wanted it to end. Feeling dejected, she pushed the door open and trunk handle in one hand and her cat's carrier in the other, went inside.


	3. Black and Yellow

Linnea spent much of the remaining two months closeted in her room, poring over her Wizarding books. She had started with _A History of Magic_ and discovered that witches and wizards younger than seventeen were not allowed to perform magic outside school. She was delighted to note, however, that the restriction only applied to those who were actually attending school, so she was in the clear to practise magic until she got to Hogwarts.

And practise she did. She read her books from cover to cover, happily absorbing and testing as much as she could. She laughed whenever she thought about Dudley going off to struggle with boring things like Math. Her wand had quickly become her closest companion, alongside her cat, whom she had decided to name Abell. Even after getting accustomed to using it, Linnea still couldn't understand her attachment to her wand. In her head, it was merely a stick that allowed her to focus her magical essence into spells, as described in _Magical Theory_. In her heart, though, she felt that her wand was an extension of herself, and would part with it as soon as she would her legs.

She soon discovered that she didn't have any trouble getting the spells she practised to work, but she definitely had issues in controlling them. When she had used the Locking Charm on the bathroom door with an unsuspecting Dudley inside, she had laughed herself down to the floor when he tried to turn the key to no avail and screamed and banged the door in panic; Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia had stepped out. Once she had had her fill, she performed the Unlocking Charmon it - only to frown when it didn't work. It took her seven minutes to get Dudley get out. This happened to her quite often: her spells' power kept fluctuating - sometimes as average and normal as described in the books, and other times so powerful that she would be too afraid to try anything else for a few hours. She still shuddered when she remembered what had happened when she had tested the Knockback Jinx on the large shelf that housed Dudley's broken toys.

Linnea had been anxious to try her hand at potion making, but could only do it when the Dursleys had left the house; the smells would undoubtedly have her aunt howling for her blood. When she was left alone in the house, though, she immediately got her cauldron, ingredients, scales and phials out. She was happy to find that the process was very much like cooking, and took to it immediately. After testing the waters with the Cure for Boils, which was listed as an introductory-level potion, she went straight to the Sleeping Draught, one of the most advanced first-year potions. It didn't turn out the exact shade of lavender as described in the book, but it worked nonetheless; a drop in each Dursley's teacup at breakfast had knocked them out for an hour-and-a-half. She dashed to her bedroom to have a good laugh when they finally began to awaken, bewilderment written in their faces. Whether they suspected her hand in their unscheduled slumber or not she didn't know, but they didn't openly blame her.

A tiny part of her felt a little petty for playing these tricks - and more - on the Dursleys, but she quickly dismissed the feeling; in her opinion, she was being very tame in regards to what they actually deserved for the way they had been treating her for the past ten years.

Transfiguration proved to be every bit as difficult as the book had described. _Magical Theory_ had explained that there existed spells which didn't actually have an incantation - strength of intent and understanding were what drove these spells most and were crucial to getting them to work. The spells she needed to perform Transfiguration seemed to fall almost exclusively into this category. She had been immensely frustrated to realize that it had taken her an entire hour to turn a matchstick into a needle - an introductory-level assignment. She supposed that her difficulties lay with the "strength of intent and understanding" she had read about; being raised by the Dursleys had diminished her ability to understand the properties of substances and will them to change into something else. Linnea spent most of her time practising Transfiguration; she was sure it would be her Achille's Heel where classwork was concerned.

She had gotten a pleasant surprise on her birthday - two, actually. She had awakened to Abell meowing and pawing at her face then spotted the two owls on her desk, both carrying parcels.

The small brown owl carried two gifts from Hagrid: a small chocolate-iced cake and a new copy of _Curses and Counter-Curses_ by Vindictus Viridian. Along with them was a note wishing her a happy birthday and a request not to go too crazy on the Dursleys with her new book. She grinned at that.

The handsome eagle owl came from quite the unexpected source - the boy she had met at Madam Malkin's, Draco Malfoy. His note wished her a happy birthday as well, and expressed his hope to meet her on the Hogwarts Express and hopefully become friends. His gift to her was an expensive-looking silver pendant with purple-tinted crystal stalks of her namesake flower twisting around it. When she touched them, she could smell the delicate scent of the real thing. She wondered for a moment how Draco had known her birthday, then remembered that she was famous; that knowledge was probably public domain. The gift flattered her, and she found that she was inclined to revise her initial opinion of Draco.

She more than willingly gave the owls replies to take to their owners, happily thanking each for thinking of her and wishing them a good remainder of the summer with the promise to see them when term started.

All in all, Linnea felt happier and more fulfilled than she had ever thought possible. With one week left to September, she had combed through all her books and tried most of the spells and potions, always delighting in her success. She didn't much like Magical History, however; she had little interest in wars of the past, though she had gotten a small jolt when she discovered that there was an entire chapter dedicated to her and Voldemort in _A History of Magic_.

She was determined, more than anything, to succeed at Hogwarts, to be the best if she could manage it. She had spent years being told that she was worthless, and was determined to prove everyone wrong. She often wondered who she meant by "everyone", for the Dursleys were no longer in her mind when this thought struck her, as it often did nowadays.

She was completely packed on the last night of August. She could barely contain her excitement; a whole new life was waiting for her tomorrow, and she could hardly wait. She was sitting on her bed, slowly petting Abell, who purred contentedly in her lap. She was smiling - she was rarely without a smile on her face lately.

'Tomorrow's the big day, girl,' she said to her cat. 'We'll be leaving tomorrow. I don't even know what we'll be going into, but that's really the exciting part, isn't it?' Abell looked up at her as though to say, 'Of course.'

She lifted the white cat off her lap and set her gently on the bed while she meowed in protest. She changed into a nightgown she had purchased shortly after her visit to Diagon Alley and got into bed. She was smiling even as her eyes slowly closed and sleep overtook her.

* * *

Linnea couldn't decide whether Ernie, the driver of the Knight Bus, was insane or a genius. He swept the double-decker in impossible curves, dodging everything by a hair at breakneck speed. She would enjoy the ride if it wasn't for the jumps that the bus occasionally made, teleporting from one area to another. She chatted with Stan all through her journey - he was only too happy to oblige her. Before long, they had reached King's Cross Station. Stan helped her get her trunk onto a trolley before the Knight Bus disappeared with another _bang_.

She made her way into the station, which was full to bursting with people. When she reached the train platforms, she took the ticket Hagrid had given her out of her jeans pocket and looked at it.

'Platform nine-and-three-quarters?' she read in loud confusion, causing many passers-by to turn and stare at her. She pushed her trolley down the isles until she came to platform nine. There on the right was platform ten, and between them solid stone. Linnea frantically searched her memory, trying to remember if Hagrid had told her how to get onto the platform. No, he had forgotten to mention it. But then _she_ had forgotten to ask details about the journey to Hogwarts.

She was willing to bet that the wall between platforms nine and ten had something to do with it, but she wasn't sure what. She thought about Diagon Alley and how Hagrid had opened the archway. Should she get her wand out and start tapping on the wall? Wouldn't that be a little conspicuous, though? Before she could make up her mind, a voice sounded behind her.

'Well, well, if it isn't Ronnie's little friend.'

She turned to see one of the twins from Flourish and Blotts grinning at her. He was pushing a trolley as well, laden with much the same things as her own, except for Abell's carrier.

'Stumped on how to get onto the platform, huh?' Linnea nodded and he said, 'It's pretty simple, really - you have to go _through_ that wall there.'

Linnea's eyes narrowed. _What?_

'George!' a sharp woman's voice said. 'What are you doing to that poor girl?'

'I'm helping her,' George replied, looking over his shoulder, 'and I would thank you not to interrupt me.'

The twin's family had caught up to the twin. She spotted Ron and waved at him; he smiled at her a little sheepishly. His mother caught their little exchange.

'Ron, you know each other?'

'We met at Flourish and Blotts,' Ron answered in barely more than a mumble.

'I was telling her how to get onto the platform,' George said with a grin in Ron's direction. Evidently the teasing from that day had gone on for some time.

'Yes, and I'm not quite sure if you're trying to get me to break my neck or something worse,' she said with a sweet smile. George's mouth opened slightly as his mother's eyes flashed angrily in his direction. 'What d'you say, Ron - care to tell me how to do it?'

Ron looked up at her with an incredulous look on his face. Then, spotting his brother's face, broke out in a grin. 'Sure. All you have to do is run through that barrier between platforms nine and ten.'

'That's what I said,' George said hurriedly in an attempt to placate his mother. Linnea laughed.

'Dear brother, I do believe that she's having some fun with you,' the other twin, Fred, said with a hint of humor in his voice.

As George smiled appreciatively at her, Linnea turned her trolley around and broke out into a run. She closed her eyes as she came up to the wall, but the impact she had feared didn't come. When she opened her eyes, she saw that she was on a single platform with a scarlet steam engine waiting to embark on its journey. This platform was crowded as well, with people in robes walking all around, cats meowing and owls hooting. She smiled and pushed her trolley forward, looking for an empty compartment. She found one close to the back and carried Abell into it and laid her carrier down on one of the seats. She went back for her trunk and frowned when she realized that there was no way she could carry it up the train steps.

_Well, you don't have to carry it, you idiot_, she thought with a smile. She pulled her wand out of her jacket pocket and flicked it. '_Wingardium Leviosa._' The trunk immediately rose into the air, but Linnea was once again having troubles; it practically shot up as though launched from a cannon. She managed to get it under control just before it passed the height of the train.

'There's something special, a first-year with a little insight. I'd stick close to her if I were you, Ronnie.' The Weasleys had caught up to her.

'Her technique could use a little work, though.'

Linnea carefully guided her trunk down and guided it onto the luggage rack of the compartment she had chosen.

'Well, I am impressed.' She turned around to see that the twins had followed her. 'Here we were coming to see if you needed help getting it up there, but looks like you've got everything under control.'

'Not to mention her brilliant scheme to get mum to bite my head off.' The one on the right must be George. He held his hand out to her and she took it. 'George Weasley. This is my shadow, Fred, I believe we introduced ourselves at Flourish and Blotts.'

'You've shown us quite the lovely time,' Fred said, also shaking her hand, 'but we are ashamed to admit that we do not even know your name.'

'I wouldn't let your mother hear that,' Linnea said with a laugh. 'I'm Linnea Potter, nice to meet you.'

The twins blanched and goggled at her. She kept smiling. It was a long moment before they heard Mrs. Weasley's voice. 'Fred? George? Are you there?'

'Coming, Mum.' They took one last look at her and jumped back onto the platform to rejoin their family.

Linnea couldn't sit still. She left her compartment and walked down the train, taking in the sight of the other students. Some had already changed into their black robes while others were still dressed in Muggle attire. She hoped she could find Draco and personally thank him for his gift, which was draped around her neck. She wasn't so lucky, however, and very soon the last call for passengers sounded throughout the platform. She hurried back to her compartment and watched as the families said their final goodbyes to their children. Her heart wrenched a little, but she kept her feelings down. The train had started moving and was slowly picking up speed. When it rounded a corner and the platform was lost from sight, she sat back and closed her eyes. _This is it_, she thought, _no going back now_.

The compartment door slid open and Ron Weasley appeared, looking very nervous. 'D'you mind if I sit with you? Everywhere else seems full.'

'Be my guest,' Linnea answered with a smile. Ron took the seat opposite her as she turned to stare out the window. She could see him glancing at her every so often out of the corner of her eye, but he always looked quickly away to avoid getting caught. She smiled. 'Yes, I am Linnea Potter,' she said suddenly, making Ron jump. 'I'm guessing Fred and George told you.'

'Er, yeah, they did,' Ron answered, looking as though he'd been caught in some mischief. Her smile widened.

'You don't have to be nervous or anything around me, Ron. Just think of me as the girl you met back in Diagon Alley.'

'Alright,' the redhead said, smiling slightly in turn. 'You said you were raised by Muggles. What are they like?'

'Horrible,' Linnea answered at once. 'Well, not all of them, but my aunt, uncle and cousin are. I paid them back, though, when I got my wand.' She couldn't control the naughty grin that had come over her face.

'Fred and George are going to love you,' Ron said with a laugh. 'They're real pranksters, pretty famous at Hogwarts from what I hear.'

'It must be nice, having three brothers - I didn't meet the eldest, though.'

'I have five brothers, actually,' Ron said gloomily. 'Bill is the eldest - he was Head Boy back in school and works for Gringotts now. Charlie used to be Quidditch Captain and works with dragons in Romania. Percy's in fifth year and a prefect. Fred and George are in third year - then there's me. I'm the sixth in our family to go to Hogwarts. Next year my sister Ginny will be the seventh.'

'Sounds like a big family.'

'It is - I'm always surprised we haven't killed each other yet; we get along pretty well. You don't get anything new with five brothers, though; I've got Bill's old robes, Charlie's old wand and Percy's old rat, Scabbers.'

That certainly explained the grey rat lying on the seat next to him. If it weren't for the steady rise and fall of its little chest, Linnea would have thought it dead. She did, however, frown as Abell meowed in her carrier.

'Can you just use someone else's wand like that? Ollivander says the wand chooses the wizard or something.'

'Yeah, it's better to get your own wand, of course,' Ron said hastily, 'but my parents couldn't aff - I mean, they thought I wouldn't do too badly with Charlie's wand.' His ears went beet red and he turned to stare out of the window, clearly embarrassed.

'There's nothing wrong with that, Ron,' Linnea said. He looked at her in surprise. 'I didn't have any money at all, not until I was told about being a witch and was taken to my Gringotts vault. For the ten years before that, all the clothes I wore were barely worth a Sickle, and I could never get anything I wanted. There's nothing wrong with not having as much money as other people. I've seen a little bit of your family and trust me, you have something that all the Galleons in the world can't buy.'

'Th- thanks, Linnea,' Ron said quietly.

'Call me Lin,' Linnea replied; she had warmed up to the nickname Hagrid had addressed her by. 'You're welcome.'

They sat in silence for a long time. Ron stared at her thoughtfully while she stared out at the passing scenery. He seemed to have decided something, for he suddenly smiled.

'I hope you're in Gryffindor,' he said brightly.

Linnea laughed. 'Well, I don't know if I'm brave enough to get in, but I suppose I could stand to be in the same house as your freckles.' She smiled as the boy's ears reddened again. 'You seem pretty sure about which house you'll join.'

'All of my family has been in Gryffindor,' Ron explained. Then he suddenly looked fearful. 'I don't know what Mum and Dad will say if I don't get in.'

'I'm sure they wouldn't mind terribly. Every one of the houses has something to offer, after all.'

'Yeah…yeah, you're right. Well, I don't think Slytherin offers quite the right stuff.'

Hagrid had told Linnea about the four houses and the fierce rivalry among them. Well, among three of them. From how he said it, it seemed that Hufflepuff was the least prestigious of them, getting trampled year in and year out in Quidditch, the competition for the House Cup and general accomplishments. Slytherin was famous through their notoriety. Their beliefs, passed down from their patriach and apparent inability to interact with students from the other houses using more than insults had ostracized them. The two houses struck Linnea as being quite unstable, and she couldn't decide if their reputations molded their students or the students themselves were what shaped the image of the house.

'I think Slytherin just needs a bit of steering in the right direction,' she said. She may have been understating things, though; Hagrid had also told her the reputation Slytherin held in producing Dark wizards, including Voldemort.

'Maybe. They're a lot stronger than Hufflepuff, at least.' Linnea frowned a little. 'I suppose Ravenclaw wouldn't be too bad, though.'

The compartment door slid open at that moment, revealing a woman pushing a trolley laden with what looked like exotic candy. 'Anything off the trolley, dears?' she asked.

Ron went red again and muttered something about bringing sandwiches. Linnea jumped up and walked over to the trolley. She soon found choosing a single thing to be a daunting task, for everything seemed to pop out before her eyes.

'Ummm…I'll take one of everything, please.' After handing over one Galleon and five Sickles, she carried it all as best as she could and tipped it into the seat next to Abell's carrier. She let out another meow.

'Hungry, are you?'

'You don't honestly think a tiny girl like me has any chance of eating through this lot, do you? Dig in.'

'Wha -? Are you sure? You don't have to mind me, I can make due with my sandwiches.'

'I'm very sure, Ron,' Linnea answered firmly. 'Keep refusing me and I may just sick Fred and George on you.'

Ron laughed at that and after thanking her dove into the pile of sweets. Linnea couldn't believe how good it felt to be able to share something with someone - even someone that she was just starting to get to know. She found that Wizarding sweets were a lot more satisfying, owing to the danger associated with some of them. She loved Bertie Botts' Every Flavor Beans and challenged Ron to see who could get through the most without conceding. She got strawberry, grass, wood, milk, lettuce and paper. She won the game before long when Ron refused to eat a black one that turned out to be hair.

'That's a nice pendant you have,' Ron observed as they began opening up some of the other sweets.

'Thanks,' beamed Linnea. 'It was a birthday present, actually.'

As if in response to this, the compartment door slid open once more. It was Draco Malfoy, but he wasn't alone this time - two thickset boys stood behind him like bodyguards.

'Draco!' Linnea jumped up with a smile. 'I looked for you when I got on the train, I wanted to thank you for the gift.'

Draco smiled at her and was about to say something before he noticed that she had company. His mouth curved into a sneer.

'Hello there, Weasley,' he said with such derision that Linnea's smile was wiped off her face.

'Malfoy,' Ron spat, his entire face red.

The compartment was suddenly filled with an almost palpable tension. After regarding the redhead as though he were barely worth his notice, Draco turned to address Linnea.

'Maybe you should come to _our_ compartment, Linnea. Hanging out with riffraff like the Weasleys is bound to rub off on you.'

Linnea watched as Ron's hand curled into a fist. She looked from one boy to another, confused. Then it dawned on her: she had read in _A History of Magic_ that there were families in the Wizarding world that absolutely could not stand each other. Something of the sort must be between their own families. She sighed.

'Draco, let's step outside, shall we?'

Shock and hurt flitted across Ron's face before Linnea turned to look at him and smiled reassuringly. She followed the three boys outside.

'Draco,' she said forcefully as he opened his mouth to speak; he promptly shut it. 'I'm not sure what's going on between the Weasleys and the Malfoys, but I would ask you to please not antagonize any of my friends.' Draco looked shocked. He opened his mouth again, but Linnea raised a finger. 'I'm not done yet. I appreciate the gift you so kindly got me, and I would like to be your friend, but if you can't respect my _other_ friends enough to not insult them, then say so now -' She undid the pendant and held it out. '-and we can part ways.'

He stared at her as though struck dumb for the longest time before he collected himself and cleared his throat. 'Er, well, I'm sorry -'

'Don't tell me, tell Ron.'

Draco looked like he had been forced to swallow a lemon. He went back to staring at her for some time, as though he were trying to decide if she was worth it. Finally, he walked back into the compartment and faced the redheaded boy. He cleared his throat for a long time, as though he expected what he was going to say would cause him physical pain.

'I - I'm sorry, Weas - I, mean, Ron,' he said through gritted teeth. Ron nodded sharply in acceptance and Draco hastily exited the compartment. Linnea smiled at him.

'Thank you for that,' she said. 'Can I assume that you want me to keep this pendant?'

'Of course,' Draco said quickly. 'It was a gift.'

'And I appreciate it,' Linnea said, wearing the pendant again. 'You didn't introduce your two friends there.'

'Oh, this is Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle.'

'A pleasure, boys,' Linnea said with a nod and a smile. 'Listen, Draco, it was nice of you to come looking for me, but I wouldn't want to leave Ron alone. I'll see you later, is that all right?'

'I suppose,' said Draco. He looked as though it was far from all right but turned away nonetheless, flanked by his friends. Linnea went back into the compartment.

'You're incredible,' Ron said at once.

'Oh? And why is that?' Linnea said with a laugh.

'I've never heard anyone give it to a Malfoy like that,' Ron replied, shaking his head in amusement. 'I actually thought you were pushing it when you told him to apologize to me.'

'So did I,' Linnea confessed. 'I'm very surprised that he did it. He must really want to be my friend.'

There was a little pause, then Ron asked, embarrassed, 'Did you mean it when you said that I was your friend?'

'Don't ask silly questions, Ron,' Linnea answered with another smile.

Ron returned it before saying, 'You know, he could have been told to be your friend.'

'You mean by his father?' When Ron nodded, she continued, 'What's between your families anyway? Is it the Voldemort thing?'

Ron whimpered at the name, at which Linnea frowned. She really couldn't see what was so terrifying about saying the name. 'W - Well, yeah. My dad works in the Ministry of Magic. He always said that Malfoy never needed an excuse to be on You-Know-Who's side.'

'That's hardly compelling, Ron.'

'It's not just that,' Ron hastened to add. 'The Malfoys hate Muggleborns - witches and wizards born to Muggle parents - and that was one of the things You-Know-Who was spreading around.' He paused. 'Malfoy looks down on us too, because we've never had much money.' He was looking down at the floor now.

Linnea sighed. Most of the time, the Wizarding world was so full of wonder that it fascinated her. At times like these though, she couldn't help but think that it wasn't totally different from the Muggle world.

* * *

Night had fallen by the time the Hogwarts Express began to slow down. A cool voice echoed through the train, saying, 'We have arrived at Hogsmeade Station. Please leave your belongings as they are - they will be brought up for you.

Linnea and Ron grinned at each other, both clad in their black robes. You could practically feel the excitement as though it were a physical force when the train finally stopped. They left their compartment and joined the tumult of students disembarking. They stepped onto a tiny dark platform and looked around. Linnea thought she recognized the huge silhouette a little down the way.

'Firs' years! Firs' years, over here!' Hagrid's voice boomed. She smiled and made her way over. 'All right there, Lin?'

'Very. Thank you so much for the birthday presents, Hagrid.'

'Don' mention it,' he said with a smile. He then went back to calling for the first years. As they crowded around him, Linnea was displeased to see that she was among the smallest of the bunch. 'Any more firs' years? Right, then follow me!'

Hagrid led them down a steep and narrow path that had them occasionally slipping. No one spoke - they were too nervous for that. The path eventually led out to a huge black lake. The new students gasped as they spotted the majestic castle set against a mountain on the far side of the lake, its large windows flickering with soft, fiery light. Linnea stared, feeling her excitement - and anxiety - grow.

'No more'n four to a boat!' Hagrid called, pointing down to the small fleet of boats that rested near the lake's shore. Linnea and Ron climbed into one, closely followed by a girl with bushy brown hair and a round-faced boy. As soon as the last student climbed into a boat, the little fleet moved all at once across the smooth, glassy surface of the lake. They all stared up at the castle, growing larger and larger the closer they got to the cliff that it was sitting on. The boats took them through a curtain of ivy that hid a large gap in the cliff face and eventually stopped upon a small harbor. They disembarked, their shoes crunching on pebbles as they followed Hagrid's lantern out onto the soft grass that covered the school grounds. Up a short flight of steps they went to stand before the castle's great oak front doors.

'Everyone here?' Hagrid asked, looking back at the students. When no one replied, he raised his huge fist and knocked once on the doors, which swung open immediately.

There, in the Entrance Hall, stood a stern-faced witch with black hair tied in a tight bun, clad in emerald green robes. She looked like someone you did not want to get on the wrong side of.

'The firs' years, Professor McGonagall.'

'Thank you, Hagrid, I will take them from here.'

As Hagrid disappeared through a door off the Entrance Hall, Professor McGonagall led the first years through another door into a small empty chamber. She then turned to address them.

'Welcome to Hogwarts,' she said. 'The start-of-term feast is about to begin but before you can join your fellow students at the tables, you must be sorted into your houses. The Sorting ceremony is of the utmost importance to Hogwarts students, as your house will become your family in your time here. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend your free time in your house common room.

'There are four houses here at Hogwarts: Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and has produced outstanding witches and wizards; joining any one of them is an absolute honor. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points; any rule-breaking will lose your house points. At the end of the year, the house with the highest number of points is awarded the House Cup. I ask you all to try your best to be a credit to whichever house you will belong to.

'The Sorting will take place in front of the rest of the school. You will wait here and I shall return when we are ready to receive you.' With that she left.

'Well, whatever she says, I won't be joining Hufflepuff,' a stringy dark haired boy said with a snicker. A lot of people around him looked like they agreed. Others, she noticed, were looking at him a little angrily.

'How do they sort you into your house, exactly?' Ron whispered to Linnea.

'You put on a hat,' she whispered back, 'and it decides where you go.'

Ron looked immensely relieved at this. 'Fred and George told me all kinds of things, like wrestling a troll.'

Linnea gave a quiet laugh just as Professor McGonagall came back in. 'Form a line,' she said, 'and follow me.'

They hurriedly shuffled into a single file and followed the professor back into the Entrance Hall and through a door on the right that opened up into a great majestic hall that reminded her very much of a cathedral. The rest of the students were there, seated at four long tables laden with golden plates and goblets; they were all staring at the little first years as they made their way to the front of the hall, where the staff sat at another long table. There were floating candles all over the place, which clearly illuminated some silvery, transparent figures that Linnea took to be ghosts. When she looked up, she saw that the ceiling was black and littered with stars, just like the sky outside had been.

'This is the Great Hall,' she heard a bossy female voice whisper behind her. 'The ceiling is enchanted to look like the sky outside. I read about it in _Hogwarts: A History_.'

The girl must have gotten some extra reading in, because Linnea was sure that book hadn't been on their lists. She made a note to try finding it later as they finally reached the front of the hall. She looked back at the other students and saw that each table had its house banner draped on the wall alongside it: a gold lion against red for Gryffindor, a bronze eagle against blue for Ravenclaw, a silver serpent against green for Slytherin, and a black badger against yellow for Hufflepuff.

Linnea looked back at Professor McGonagall, who had just placed a four-legged stool in front of the first years. On top of the stool went what she knew to be the Sorting Hat. It was patched in many places and quite frayed. It sat still for a moment, then a rip near its brim opened like a mouth and it began to sing.

Linnea didn't pay attention to the Hat's song, however, even though most of the Hall was staring at it raptly. One of the teachers had just caught her eye - a man will sallow skin, a hooked nose and greasy hair. His black eyes were deathly cold, and they were boring into her grey ones. She didn't like the look he was giving her. It was one of intense dislike, mingled with curiosity. She felt like he was evaluating her, trying to judge her worth. She stared at him even as he stared at her. To them, they were the only two people in the Hall. She found herself wondering what he was thinking…

The intense clapping of the students gave her a small start and she looked back at the Hat. It seemed to have finished its song, however, and was now sitting still upon the stool. Professor McGonagall stepped up to it with a long roll of parchment in her hand.

'When I call your name,' she said, 'you will come forward, put on the Hat and sit on the stool to be sorted. Abbott, Hannah!'

A pink-faced girl with blond pigtails left the line, went forward and put on the Sorting Hat. She sat on the stool. A moment's pause, and the Hat shouted, 'HUFFLEPUFF!' The Hufflepuff table cheered and clapped as Hannah went to join her house.

'Bones, Susan!'

'HUFFLEPUFF!' the Hat shouted again. Susan hurriedly left the front of the Hall to sit next to Hannah.

'Boot, Terry!'

'RAVENCLAW!' The Ravenclaws likewise cheered as the new student went up to join them.

And so Professor McGonagall made her way down the list. Linnea tried to keep track of her classmates and commit their faces to memory, also noting their houses. She noticed that there were more girls than boys.

Draco and his friends, Vincent and Gregory, all went to the Slytherin table. They were followed by Theodore Nott, who had made the jibe about Hufflepuff while they had been waiting in the room off the entrance Hall.

The list steadily shortened, with the Hat taking longer to decide with some students than with others. Finally, after Sally-Anne Perks was sent to Gryffindor, it was her turn.

'Potter, Linnea!'

A hushed silence momentarily fell upon the Hall when her name was read. It was quickly destroyed when she walked up to the stool, though. Students' voices buzzed all around, though what they were saying she couldn't tell. She saw many of them craning their necks and standing up to get a good look at her. She put the Sorting Hat on and sat on the stool. She waited.

'Hmmm,' a small voice in her head suddenly said. 'Difficult, very difficult. My, my, I haven't tasted a mind such as this in a long time. Plenty of courage, a good heart and not a bad mind either. There's talent, oh my goodness, yes, and a nice thirst…for power. Well, isn't that interesting? But where to put you?' The voice lapsed into a long silence. All Linnea could do was stare at the dark inside of the Hat as it made its decision. 'I can see the makings of a great witch in you. Slytherin would definitely help you become great. But…such talent, is it truly worth using it for yourself, as all Slytherins must? Hmmm…' Again the Hat fell silent. Linnea fidgeted upon the stool. 'I must say, you are quite the puzzle, Potter - truly difficult to place. I don't doubt that you will be a great asset to your house - but which house? The decision lies with me but I admit that you have me at a loss - but the decision must be made, nonetheless. I can only hope that you will find your home in HUFFLEPUFF!'

Linnea heard the Hat shout the last word out to the entire Hall. She gratefully took it off and started making her way to the Hufflepuff table. Then she noticed it, and she stopped.

Complete silence.

Every other student had garnered some applause from their respective houses, but she had been met by total silence. She looked at the older students. They were all staring at her. Then the Gryffindors, Ravenclaws and Slytherins all turned to stare at the Hufflepuffs, who just kept goggling at her. You could have heard a pin drop -

The Hufflepuffs suddenly exploded in a roar of cheers and whistling. Such was the noise they made that she actually took a step back, her eyes wide. They had all stood up, cheering, applauding and stamping their feet. Some were even banging their goblets against the table. Professor McGonagall called for order, but the Hufflepuffs either didn't hear her, or didn't care.

Many of them were beckoning to her now, signaling her to join them. She hastily made her way over and was immediately assaulted by handshakes, hugs and claps on her back. The entire house seemed to want a piece of her, and many of them got it. Linnea couldn't help the large smile that spread across her face; never before had she been subjected to such an overwhelming welcome. She finally managed to take a seat, but it didn't stop there - her fellow Hufflepuffs were all introducing themselves to her. It was so confusing that she couldn't catch a single name, but it didn't matter; she shook hands with everyone who offered theirs, beaming all the while.

It took a full five minutes for the noise to finally die down. Linnea looked around as silence finally fell to see that many of the other students from the other houses were still staring at the Hufflepuff table with gob-smacked expressions on their faces.

The Sorting proceeded smoothly after that. Ron went to Gryffindor just like he had been hoping for. Three boys and two girls joined Linnea, Hannah and Susan at the Hufflepuff table, and they all made sure to sit in close proximity to her.

Finally, with Blaise Zabini going to Slytherin, the Sorting was over; Professor McGonagall carried the Hat and its stool away as a man who Linnea took to be Professor Dumbledore stood up at the staff table. His deep blue eyes twinkled behind his half-moon glasses as he regarded his students fondly. 'Welcome!' he said. 'Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our feast, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you!'

He sat back down to the cheers and laughter of many of the students. Linnea's eyes widened with amazement as the plates before them suddenly became laden with food and the table groaned under their weight. She had never seen so many dishes in one place: roast beef and chicken, pork chops, lamb chops, jacket potatoes, fried rice, steak, Yorkshire pudding and so many other things that she didn't care to know about. She hastily fixed herself a plate and took a bite of roast beef. It was divine.

'That was quite the standing ovation you got,' one of her fellow first years, Ernie Macmillan, said to her. She smiled at him with a happy nod.

'No one was expecting her to end up in Hufflepuff,' the first year on her left, Leanne Taylor, chimed in.

'This should give the other houses something to think about.' It was an older student who spoke this time, having heard Ernie and Leanne's comments.

'I just hope to be an asset to the house,' Linnea said with another smile.

'Well, we're all hoping for that, Linnea.'

'Lin,' she corrected. She looked back at her fellow first years. 'So, who wants to start talking about themselves?'


	4. Wand, Cauldron and Parchment

Concern gnawed on the mind of Albus Dumbledore.

He sat in his office, alone - or alone as he could be, given the portraits of the previous Heads of Hogwarts hanging on the wall behind him and the brilliant bird perched behind the door. He began to feel the pinpricks of worry and he was sure that they would only grow with time. His concerns were, of course, directed towards Linnea Potter.

If he were honest to himself, he had hoped that the girl would have been sorted into Gryffindor, his old house. He was sure that he could trust Professor McGonagall, its Head of House, to look after her - not that he didn't trust Professor Sprout, but this was purely a matter of preference.

Dumbledore had no doubt that Lily and James' daughter would grow to be a formidable witch, but he worried about what she would do with all her potential. He had once seen much the same power and promise in a former student here at Hogwarts, and he had gone on to place the Wizarding world in a state of dark turmoil and despair. He could not, under any circumstances, allow history to repeat itself, as it was so fond of doing.

He could, however, see a few warning signs.

Her reaction at the Hufflepuffs' welcome - she had not seemed abashed, or even shy, in any sense of the words. Her smile told him that she reveled in, or at the very least didn't mind all the attention. But Hagrid's description of the girl from their trip to Diagon Alley held him off on drawing any conclusions on this facet of Linnea Potter. From what the gamekeeper had said, she had felt nothing but sadness at realizing the reason behind her fame. Rather than hate it, though, she seemed to have embraced it as part of who she was in the Wizarding world. It would undoubtedly be more of a comfort for her, but Dumbledore couldn't help but ponder the implications.

Then there was what Ollivander had told him about her wand. Yew and Thestral tail hair - a murderous combination if there had ever been one. He wondered if the child had actually witnessed her parents' death all those years ago, when she had just been an infant. There might be some connection there. What was more concerning, though, was the reaction Ollivander described when she touched the holly and phoenix wand. Again, he thought about what this could imply or indicate about her, and again could not come up with any conclusions.

He sighed as he looked up at the Sorting Hat, which rested on a high shelf, as still as any other hat should be. Asking it for the reasons behind Linnea Potter's placement into Hufflepuff would be, he knew, utterly useless; the Hat would never reveal what it saw in any of the students. Dumbledore could only pray that its reasons were justified.

He looked out at the still night sky. He would just have to wait for her to complete her first day of magical education. He wanted the opinions of the rest of the staff on her, hopefully enough to get a better bearing on the girl. He had noticed the gazes shared between her and Severus, but on inquiry he had answered that he hadn't been able to glean anything about her - another concern in and of itself.

Linnea Potter did not leave Albus Dumbledore's mind that night. She was a puzzle that even he, at least for now, could not solve.

* * *

Linnea had never woken up feeling so relaxed. She stared up at the roof of her new dormitory, her mouth curving into a smile as memories of the previous day flooded her mind - she did a lot of smiling of late. None of the other girls had awakened yet, it seemed; all she could hear was the gentle breathing of slumber.

She and her classmates had held a long conversation at the feast last night; she was determined to get to know all of them as best as she could. In addition to herself, Leanne, Ernie, Susan and Hannah, the new Hufflepuffs were Justin Finch-Fletchley, Megan Jones and Zacharias Smith. She liked every one of them, despite Zacharias' somewhat disdainful persona; in particular, she thought that she would get along with Leanne the most. The girl was bright and cheery, but Linnea had noticed her sink into a thoughtful mood every so often, during which she rarely, if ever, talked; she seemed fond of speaking her mind as well, and let everyone know her feelings on whatever it was that they were talking about.

When the feast had finally ended, Linnea had been full enough to burst. Dumbledore had made a few announcements; the one about the third floor corridor being forbidden, and how you would apparently die if you went to check it out caught her interest. The prefects had then led them from the Great Hall to their house common rooms. The entrance to the Hufflepuff common room was located at the end of a corridor to the right of that of the kitchens. It was concealed by a stack of barrels; to get in, you had to tap the right barrel with your wand in what the prefect, Gabriel Truman, had called _the rhythm of Helga Hufflepuff_. If you didn't tap the right barrel, or did the rhythm wrong, the barrels would apparently douse you in vinegar.

The common room itself was a nice cozy room that seemed, even at night, to be bathed in sunlight. Its ceiling was low, and through the windows you could see the grass and dandelions of the grounds, which affirmed Linnea in the thought that it was located in the castle's lower levels. With Professor Sprout, the Herbology teacher, being their Head of House, she had not been surprised to see the room decked out in many a beautiful flower; the plants that actually sang and danced, though, were a little bit of a shock. Comfortable-looking sofas and chairs, patterned with the Hufflepuff colors, dotted the earthy floor. The best chairs were grouped in front of the fireplace, where a roaring fire often burned into the late hours of the night.

Linnea turned to her nightstand and her small alarm clock told her that she had woken up an hour earlier than she needed to. Deciding that there was no point in trying to get back to sleep, she got out of bed and made her way to the bathroom for a hot shower. When she came back to dress up, she noticed that her robes had Hufflepuff's crest stamped on the right side of the chest, and the fastenings had turned to match her house's colors. A Hufflepuff scarf had also mysteriously found its way into her trunk. She wondered for a moment when this had been done, then gave up - there was no way she could figure out every bit of magic, especially in a place like Hogwarts. She dressed into her uniform and took a look in the mirror. She still hated how small she seemed, but she could suddenly stand her appearance more. Maybe it was something to do with the happiness that permeated her entire body. She shrugged and donned her robes. She then placed her alarm clock down on Leanne's nightstand to make sure that she woke up on time, and went down to the common room, making sure to have her wand in her pocket.

She was surprised to see someone else there: Professor Sprout. It looked like she had brought some more plants for the common room and was just placing them down. She turned when the door to the common room opened and smiled when she saw who it was.

'Ah, good morning, Miss Potter. An early riser, I see.'

'Good morning, Professor Sprout. I was feeling a little too excited to go back to sleep.'

'I'm sure,' Professor Sprout said, her kindly smile widening. 'Well, this is a lovely coincidence at any rate - I was wanting to have a little one-on-one chat with you, Miss Potter.'

'Of course, Professor,' Linnea replied.

Professor Sprout smiled at the politeness of the girl before her and went on, 'Well, I won't beat around the bush - I was a little surprised to see you come to my house, Miss Potter.'

'So everyone keeps telling me,' Linnea said with a little laugh. 'I don't think it's anything to bat an eye at, personally; I think every house at Hogwarts has a reason for why it exists, and has something irreplaceable to offer to the school.'

Professor Sprout nodded appreciatively. The girl could talk, that much was clear. 'I couldn't agree more, Miss Potter,' she said. 'However, as Head of Hufflepuff House, I do wish to dispel the ill reputation and stigmatization that has cropped up on our house for all these years.'

'As do I,' Linnea answered swiftly. 'I will do my best to be a credit to this house, Professor Sprout. I wish nothing more than to succeed here at Hogwarts - not just for myself, but for my house, and in the long run, for Hogwarts itself.'

'I'm glad to hear you say that,' Professor Sprout said. She had just finished placing the new plants, and turned to fully face Linnea. 'That's quite the wand you have there.'

Linnea looked down and saw a good three or four inches of her wand poking out. She pulled it out with a frown. 'Yes, it seems to be a little long for my pockets,' she said slowly, 'but I would prefer to always have it with me.'

Professor Sprout nodded slowly. She had seen something light up in the girl's eyes when they had fallen on her wand. 'Well, if I may make a suggestion, I think a wand holster would serve you well.'

'What's that, Professor?'

'Oh, just a leather brace used to keep a wand in place. You could, say, have your wand up your sleeve, so to speak - you just need to pull it out whenever you need it.'

Linnea pondered this for a moment. It would certainly keep her wand hidden for the most part, and on her person at all times. She smiled. 'That sounds good. Where can I get one, Professor?'

'I think I have a spare lying around that would fit you well enough. I believe we will have a Herbology lesson today; I can give it to you then, is that all right?'

'Quite all right. Thank you, Professor,' Linnea replied, beaming.

Professor Sprout regarded her for a while. _Yes_, she thought, _I definitely like this girl_.

'Well, if you'll excuse me, I have some duties to tend to. Thank you for the talk, Miss Potter.'

'You're welcome, Professor.'

* * *

The other first years found her in the Great Hall, leisurely getting through her breakfast. She smiled at Leanne, who smiled back.

'Thanks for the alarm clock,' she said, taking a seat next to her. 'It looks like you don't need as much sleep as the rest of us averages,' she added jokingly.

'I just couldn't get back to sleep and fancied a walk is all,' Linnea said, taking a plate of bacon and placing it in front of her new friend.

'Speaking of, how did you get here? We needed a prefect to show us the way.'

'I just retraced our steps from last night.' Linnea smiled at her classmates in greeting as they all sat down.

'Quite the memory you have there,' Justin said.

'No, not particularly. I tried very hard to remember actually; this place is huge. The portraits along the walls were also quite happy to point me in the right direction.' Linnea remembered the little jump she had had when she had seen that all the Hogwarts portraits could actually move in their frames - and talk.

'Anyone have any idea about the classes we'll be having today?' Ernie asked, buttering some toast.

'I'm not sure about the rest, but we should be having Herbology sometime during the day.'

The others all looked at her and Linnea raised her eyebrows questioningly.

'It's our first day and you're already more knowledgeable than the rest of us,' Susan Bones said with a small shake of her head.

'I ran into Professor Sprout on my way here and she told me,' Linnea explained.

They went on to talk about the subjects and the professors that taught them. She noticed that none of them had anything good to say about Professor Snape, the Potions Master. He had an ill reputation among the students; he supposedly favored his house, Slytherin. Linnea sincerely hoped that her interest in any subject wouldn't be marred by its teacher.

Draco had just entered the Hall with his friends and made for the Slytherin table, which was right next to the Hufflepuffs'. She waved at him; he returned the gesture. She turned back to her housemates to see Zacharias Smith looking at her with a deep frown on his face.

'You know Malfoy?' he asked.

'Yes, he sent me this pendant as a gift on my birthday.' She touched the little pendant to draw his eyes to it and the flowery scent filled her nose again.

'I won't presume to tell you what to do, Lin,' Zacharias said slowly, 'but I would take great care around Malfoy if I were you. Actually, I would take care around the whole of Slytherin.'

'You aren't the first to say as much to me,' Linnea said; she smiled again to let Zacharias know that she wasn't upset. 'I'm well aware of their reputation - and that's why I think that our two houses are more similar than any other in the school.' When they all looked surprised, she went on to explain, 'They have a reputation for being…socially challenged and producing Dark wizards; we have a reputation for being weak and mediocre at best. Gryffindor and Ravenclaw look down on and shun the both of us as a result, as they have become the most prestigious of the houses. They believe that they are the best, and in the eyes of the outside world, they are. I think it's about time that both Slytherin and Hufflepuff changed that, don't you? If not to be the best, then to at least be equals in everyone's eyes.'

The table fell silent as they digested her little speech. Linnea waited for their reaction.

'You have quite the ideas there, Lin,' Megan Jones said, shaking her head. 'But I think I'm actually inclined to agree with you. I don't much like how the Gryffindors and Ravenclaws lord over Hufflepuff. I haven't experienced it for myself yet, of course - but maybe it would be better to never experience it.'

Linnea smiled at her in appreciation. She could see acknowledgment and agreement reflected in the others' faces. _Looks like I'm making some headway_, she thought happily.

The morning post arrived in a whoosh of wings as dozens of owls swooped into the Hall, dropping packages and letters to their recipients. A large screech owl landed in front of Leanne; she untied the parcel on its leg as he helped himself to her bacon. When she was done he took off again, heading for the Owlery.

'Great, Mum sent me parchment, quills and ink - I'd forgotten to buy some.'

'…so did I,' Linnea said sadly as the realization hit her. Leanne, however, smiled.

'Don't worry about it, I'll lend you some to use and send Farley out with an order for more.'

'Thanks, Leanne, you're a life saver.'

Moments later, Professor Sprout came down to the table, handing them their schedules.

'Transfiguration with the Gryffindors,' Hannah recited thoughtfully, 'Potions with the Slytherins, Charms with the Ravenclaws and Herbology with the Gryffindors.'

'Looks like each Head of House gets to teach their own house today,' Ernie said.

'Well,' Linnea said, standing up, 'we've got twenty minutes to get to Transfiguration. I need to go back to the dormitory and pick up some things.'

'I'll come with you,' Leanne said, getting to her feet; Megan got up as well and the three of them made their way back to the Hufflepuff common room and on through to their domitory. They put the books they would need for the day into their bags (Linnea put her wand in there too), Leanne gave Linnea as much writing material as she could possibly need and the three made their way to the Transfiguration classroom, asking the portraits for directions along the way.

There was someone already there when they entered - a girl with long, bushy brown hair and a little overbite. Linnea recognized her from the Sorting last night, but she could not, for the life of her, remember her name; she was obviously a Gryffindor, though. She had taken a seat at one of the front desks. Linnea did the same, with Leanne as her partner; Megan sat behind them. The Hufflepuffs conversed as the class slowly began to fill with people; Linnea said hello to Ron when he came in. Out of the corner of her eye, Linnea noticed that the girl they had found there didn't say a word to anybody. Linnea thought that she might have been too shy to engage the Hufflepuffs, but she wasn't talking to any of her housemates either. And she sat alone. _That isn't so strange_, she told herself. _The Gryffindors are odd in number_. She couldn't stop herself from keeping an eye on the girl, though.

Professor McGonagall came intro the classroom just as the bell signaling the beginning of lessons sounded. Linnea noticed the bushy-haired girl smile eagerly when she spotted the teacher.

'Good morning,' Professor McGonagall said when she reached the front of the class.

'Good morning, Professor McGonagall,' the class chorused.

'I hope you are all well rested and ready to begin your magical training here at Hogwarts. It is not to be taken lightly; each lesson will test your abilities to the fullest, so I do advise you to give it your all.' She paused, then continued, 'Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic that you will learn - trust me when I say that it is not something to be trifled with. A poorly cast spell could have disastrous and permanent effects, particularly where human Transfiguration is concerned. Though you will not touch such an advanced topic until your sixth year, I caution you to take all that you learn seriously, and absorb it as best as you can, particularly the basics. These fundamentals are of the utmost importance in mastering more complex spells.

'Having said that, I must tell you: I will not tolerate anyone messing around in my classroom. Those who do so will face the most severe punishments that the school has to offer.'

She took her wand out of her robes and pointed it at her desk, which immediately turned into a zebra. She smiled at the awed looks and sounds that emanated from her students. 'And with that,' she said, turning the zebra back into a desk, 'let us begin.'

She gave a lecture much similar to what Linnea had read over the summer; she emphasized having a strong will and understanding of what it is that you wanted to do as being the most important elements in performing Transfiguration. The class was quiet as she spoke except for the gentle scratching of quills as they took notes. With her lecture complete, she instructed them to open _A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration_ to page four, where Linnea smiled at seeing the familiar matchstick-to-needle exercise.

'As you may have guessed,' Professor McGonagall said, taking a matchbox out of her robes; she waved her wand at it and some matchsticks flew out, one settling before every student., 'today you will be attempting to turn these matches into needles. Remember: your will to perform this task and understanding it are the key to success. Begin.'

Linnea, who had taken her wand out along with her book, quill and parchment pointed it at her match the moment Professor McGonagall gave the word. It immediately turned into a silvery, perfect needle.

The look on the Professor's face almost had Linnea laughing her head off.

'W - Well done, Miss Potter,' she said in a voice sagging with shock as Leanne also goggled at her. 'Look here, everyone, Miss Potter has managed it on her first attempt.'

'Actually, Professor, this isn't my first attempt at the exercise,' Linnea corrected. When Professor McGonagall gave her a questioning look, she elaborated, 'I practised a lot of wandwork for two months before coming here to Hogwarts. I found Transfiguration to be quite the challenge for me and I spent a lot of time reading up and practising on it. It took me an hour to turn the match into a satisfactory needle when I first attempted it.'

'You were practising wandwork for two months of your summer?' Professor McGonagall asked, clearly impressed. 'You must have had a lot of time on your hands.'

'Well, I didn't really have anything else to do, Professor,' Linnea confessed. 'And like I said, it took me quite a while to get the spell to work. I was scared that I wouldn't be very good at Transfiguration, so I spent most of my time on it.'

'Well, if you can admit to having difficulty in the subject and work on it so hard, then I have no doubt that you will do well in this class, Miss Potter,' Professor McGonagall said; she actually smiled at her. 'Ten points to Hufflepuff for an exemplary job on the task, and ten more points for showing outstanding initiative, Miss Potter.'

Linnea was sure her smile would break her face - one minute into the task for the day and she had already earned Hufflepuff twenty points.

'Is it alright if I could help anyone who's having trouble, Professor?'

'Quite alright, Miss Potter,' Professor McGonagall answered with another smile. She then walked towards the Gryffindors to see how they were doing. Linnea felt something poke her in the side and she turned to see Leanne staring at her in awe.

'I think she wants to marry you,' she whispered conspiratorially. Linnea gave a little laugh and began to give Leanne tips to Transfigure her match. Not long after, she heard the bossy voice from last night say, 'You're really good.'

She turned to see the bushy haired girl standing before her. In her hand was her match; it had turned silver, but had still not taken the shape of a needle.

'I'm not, really; like I said, I practised a lot over the summer. You're certainly better than me - it took me a half hour to change the color.'

'Well, could you give me some tips on how to get it to actually look like a needle?'

'Of course,' Linnea said with a smile. Then, on an impulse, she held out her hand. 'Linnea Potter, nice to meet you.'

The girl looked a little surprised that she would care to introduce herself, but took her hand nevertheless. 'Hermione Granger,' she said.

* * *

'Our first lesson and you grab twenty-five points for Hufflepuff,' Megan remarked as they exited the classroom. 'You're going to be everybody's darling at the common room tonight.'

Professor McGonagall had awarded Linnea five more points when she went around the class helping everybody out. The result was the entire class managing to get a respectable needle by the time the bell rang. 'It really wasn't anything that special,' she said. The looks on her housemates' faces told her that they strongly disagreed. Linnea forestalled any further comments with, 'We'd better hurry up to the dorm and get our cauldrons and stuff then run to the dungeons; I don't think Professor Snape would appreciate our being late.' They apparently agreed, as they all picked up the pace.

Once there, Linnea took out her cauldron and ingredients kit from her trunk - she had decided to put them together in one compartment away from the rest of the things - and led the way down to the dungeons, again with the help of the portraits, where they would have their first Potions class. She could barely contain her excitement.

The Slytherins were already there and settled when they arrived. It made sense; their common room was apparently somewhere down in the dungeons. They had taken up the left column of tables, leaving the right for the Hufflepuffs. Linnea saw Draco sitting alone at the front of the class. She turned back to Zacharias with a mischievous smile and asked, 'Hey, want to see something crazy?'

Zacharias looked confused as he shrugged. His mouth opened slightly, however, when he saw her walk up to Malfoy's table and join him. He looked around at the others, who looked just as confused. They didn't say anything, though, and settled down as fast as they could.

'Hey, there,' Linnea said brightly to Draco, who grinned at her.

'Hey. I was saving this spot for you, actually.'

'Is that so? Well, thank you.'

She set about preparing her workstation and when she was done, looked up to see that Professor Snape was watching her. He too looked more than a little surprised at her choice in classroom partner. His eyes momentarily fell on the ingredients kit next to her cauldron, then swept the rest of the class. She saw that she was the only one who had one.

The class was ready and silent before long. Professor Snape took one last look around at the first years and began to speak.

'There will be little wand-waving in these classes, which will lead many of you in having difficulty believing that potion brewing is a subtle and exact art of magic. Many potions can produce effects that not even the most gifted in wandwork can dream of. Having said that, great care must be taken while brewing - a slip in your concentration can spell the demise of many a wizard. Fear, however, is not to be tolerated - only those of a bold nature can hope to master the art of Potions and push past its boundaries. I can teach those with such a disposition how to brew glory, bottle fame, and even put a stopper on death.'

He paused, staring at the little redhead before him. She was wearing a ridiculously large smile.

'Is something…amusing, Potter?' he asked in a deadly quiet voice.

'No, not amusing, sir - I just liked your last sentence, that's all.'

Professor Snape's eyes narrowed. 'Five points from Hufflepuff, Potter.' Her smile didn't diminish any. 'Well, since you seem to be quite enthusiastic about the class, why don't we have a little quiz, Potter?'

'Of course, Professor,' Linnea replied sweetly.

Professor Snape's eyes once again looked into her own. He was silent for a long moment before he began, 'What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?'

'The Draught of Living Death, sir,' Linnea answered without a hint of hesitation.

'Its effects?'

'The Draught of Living Death is an immensely powerful sleeping potion, sir. Great care needs to be taken when brewing it, though, as a mistake could render the potion very dangerous to the drinker.'

'In what way?'

'The drinker could be put in an endless sleep, never to awaken. Even if brewed correctly, an overdose of the potion could have the same effect.'

'Where would you look, Potter, if I told you to find me a bezoar?'

'Inside the stomach of a goat, sir.'

'And what is it that a bezoar does?' Professor Snape's eyes were getting ever narrower as they continued, but Linnea didn't falter.

'It acts as an antidote to most poisons, sir.'

'Then why is it not so heavily relied upon in in the treatment of poisoning?'

'Bezoars are extremely rare, sir. Even if you managed to find one, you have to keep in mind that it guards against _most_ poisons - it isn't a universal cure. Antidotes, however, can be obtained from their own poisons, if the correct procedure is applied - this goes for every poison out there.'

'Last question: what is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane, Potter?'

'Nothing, Professor - they are the same plant. It also goes by aconite.'

'Give me two examples of potions that have it as an ingredient.'

'The Wolfsbane Potion,' Linnea replied, 'and the Awakening Potion, sir.'

Professor Snape raised an eyebrow and regarded her for a long moment before turning back to the class. 'Today you will be brewing a Cure for Boils, an introductory-level potion. I expect you to all have a complete sample by the end of the lesson - not being able to comply for whatever reason will result in a fail for the day. The instructions can be found on page seven of _Magical Drafts and Potions_, of which you should all have a copy. Begin.'

The moment he gave the word, Linnea poured some water into the cauldron and quickly opened her ingredients kit. Just as she was adding the snake fangs into her mortar, Professor Snape said, in a voice that suggested that he couldn't stop himself, 'Five points to Hufflepuff for each question, Potter.'

The entire class looked up at him in surprise - the Hufflepuffs' expressions were particularly laughable. Professor Snape wasn't looking at the class, though; he was inspecting some papers on his desk.

'Good job,' Draco whispered to her. 'He must be really impressed to give a house other than Slytherin fifteen points.'

'Ten,' Linnea whispered back in correction. 'He took five off me earlier, remember?'

Draco nodded then looked at her with a little wonder in his eyes. 'How did you know all that stuff, though?'

'I read a little over the summer.'

'Five points from Hufflepuff, Potter,' Professor Snape said lazily, causing them both to jump. 'Until you are finished I would suggest that you pay attention to your brewing.'

'Yes, Professor,' Linnea said hastily, looking back down at her workstation. She crushed the snake fangs with her pestle into a fine powder. Using her scales, she measured out four ounces of the powder and added them to her cauldron, which emitted a satisfying hiss that got her smiling. She now needed to heat the mixture until it turned green. Ignoring the little hose beside her that she knew would spout a flame if she used it, Linnea pulled out her wand, and pointing it to the base of her caulron, whispered, '_Incendio_.' A swath of bluebell flames shot out of its tip to settle beneath her cauldron - she breathed a sigh of relief at being able to properly control her spell.

'Potter, do you not see the fire hose on your station?'

'I do, Professor.'

'Then why,' Professor Snape asked slowly, 'are you using your wand to heat your cauldron?'

Linnea promptly answered, 'It's more reliable to regulate the flame through your own effort, rather than an outside source.'

Professor Snape again didn't react to what she said, but went back to his stack of papers.

'What spell was that?' Draco whispered as quietly as he could.

'_Incendio_,' Linnea whispered. She was about to tell him not to use it if he hadn't before, but when she saw him nod with recognition, she turned back to concentrate on her potion.

When it finally turned green, Linnea extinguished her flames and added the horned slugs and porcupine quills to her cauldron. It gave another hiss as it turned to a darker shade, throwing up plumes of vapor to the stone ceiling. As she counted down to one minute, she looked around at the class and saw that she was ahead of everyone else. Her heart gave a little jump of joy and she turned back to her cauldron. She gave her potion five clockwise stirs and it hissed again, this time turning purple.

'_Incendio_,' she whispered again. This time, though, she kept the flame strong. She counted down five minutes as the potion became lighter and lighter in shade. When they were over, it hissed again and belched out a lot of steam, at which she quickly extinguished her flames. She scooped up a little of the potion and decanted it with a sieve for her sample, which went into a small crystal phial. She corked it and walked up to Professor Snape.

'I have my sample complete, sir.'

The sallow-skinned man looked up at her, his eyes growing a little darker. 'Is that so? Are you quite certain that you have performed this task to the best of your ability, Potter?'

'Yes, sir,' Linnea said confidently.

'Would you be willing, then, to demonstrate to the class how effective your potion is?'

'Of course, Professor.'

Linnea walked back to her workstation; everyone was watching her now. She took her wand and pointed it down at her arm.

'_Furnunculus_.'

Her magic betrayed her once again as her entire forearm erupted in smarting, pus-filled boils - she had meant to make only a few appear. She heard a lot of the girls make sounds of disgust as she uncorked her phial and downed the potion within. The effect was instantaneous - her arm was back to normal.

'Fill out another sample and bring it here.'

'Yes, Professor.' She hastily did as he asked. She noticed that his eyes never left her. As she went back to sit down, he spoke.

'There seems to be some level of…competency in this class, if you are any indication, Potter. Ten points to Hufflepuff for fast work and an appropriate demonstration.' He then looked around at the class and continued, 'I expect an essay on the Cure for Boils - ten inches, due on Wednesday, paying particular attention to the procedure and effects of each and every ingredient, both in this particular potion and on their own. Needless to say, those of you unable to complete the day's assignment can expect to receive lower marks on this essay. Carry on.'

With nothing else to do, Linnea packed her stuff up, took out parchment and quill and started on the essay; she was sure Professor Snape wouldn't allow her to help out her classmates. She could feel his eyes on her as she wrote, but he didn't say anything. She was just about done when the bell finally rang. Thankfully, everyone had managed to put a sample together for Professor Snape to mark. Just as she swung her bag over her shoulder, Linnea heard him say, 'Potter, a word.'

She stayed back while everyone left. When they were alone, Professor Snape spoke.

'I notice that you have an ingredients kit. I would like to hear the reason behind this. As I'm sure you have noticed, this classroom is stocked with all the ingredients you would need for the year.'

'Yes, Professor, I was told at the Apothecary in Diagon Alley that ingredients would be supplied here. However, I wanted to learn how to care for these substances myself. I believe it could prove to be useful knowledge somewhere in the future.'

He raised an eyebrow again, staring at her. His index finger was slowly tracing the outline of his upper lip.

'Understand this: you alone are responsible for the condition of the ingredients in your possession. Any…mishaps that occur as a result of your ingredients being contaminated or misused in any way will result in an immediate fail in the day's work. Is that acceptable?'

'Yes, Professor.' He nodded at her in dismissal and she hurried out of the dungeons and into the Great Hall for lunch. She found her friends already at the table. It seemed that Justin was recounting some story to a group of third years. When she got closer, she realized that they were talking about her.

'And here she is,' Justin said with a mock bow when he spotted her.

'We hear you wrangled twenty points out of Snape,' one of the third years said in an impressed voice. 'Even when the Slytherins apparently didn't get any.'

Linnea sat next to Leanne, who apparently had fixed her a plate that was waiting for her. She smiled in thanks and dug in. 'It's really not a big deal,' she said between bites of rice and beef.

'"Not a big deal", she says,' another third year said, shaking his head. 'Do you have any idea how many points _I_ have lost to Snape? I gave up keeping count.'

'It looks like the old bat has a bit of a soft spot for our little redhead.'

* * *

After lunch, they headed to Charms. The third years they'd been talking to had warned them about Ravenclaw - the house that Hufflepuff got along with the least. The Ravenclaws apparently lost no opportunity to ridicule Hufflepuff House. Just like with Slytherin, though, Linnea didn't intend to let the bad blood between the two houses drive her.

They found most of the Ravenclaws already settled in when they entered the classroom. Linnea had told her friends that she wanted to sit with a Ravenclaw if possible. They remembered how the Potions class had gone and didn't object. Looking around, she saw a Chinese girl with shiny dark hair sitting at the very back of the desks the Ravenclaws had chosen. She looked a little lonely. Not even stopping to think about it, Linnea went over to sit next to her. The girl slowly turned her head around and looked at her as if convinced that she must be lost.

'Hi, I'm Linnea Potter,' Linnea said brightly, holding out her hand. The Chinese girl stared down at for so long that Linnea started to think that she wouldn't take it. She eventually did, though.

'I'm Su Li,' she said quietly.

Linnea didn't mince words. 'It's tough, isn't it - being different?'

Su narrowed her eyes dangerously. 'You certainly are blunt, aren't you?'

'I'm sorry, it's something I definitely need to work on,' Linnea said swiftly, afraid that she had offended the girl. 'It's just, I saw you alone and-'

'You felt sorry for me?' Su finished with a bite of anger in her voice.

'No, not at all. I just felt like maybe we could understand and get to know each other better - because we're both different.'

'We are hardly in the same situation, Potter - I am trying to find my place among people who are not my own, and they treat you like a queen.'

Linnea bit her lip. This was not going at all how she wanted.

'I know,' she said uncertainly. 'But like I said, we're both different - isn't that enough of a start?' Su stared at her for so long and so hard that Linnea actually gulped. _This girl is kind of scary_, she thought. When the silence had stretched for an intolerable amount of time, she said, 'Look, I'm sorry if I offended you, I really am. Believe me when I say that it wasn't my intent.'

'No,' Su said slowly, 'no, I don't think it was.'

Before Linnea could respond to this, Professor Flitwick, Head of Ravenclaw, came in. He was a tiny man - even smaller than her, she was pleased to note - with a squeaky voice. He gave an introductory speech just like Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape, but Linnea didn't hear much of it; she was watching Su out of the corner of her eye. She seemingly couldn't get enough of Professor Flitwick's words, as she rarely even blinked.

He announced that they would be working on the Locking and Unlocking Charms for their first lesson. Next to him was a box; he flicked his wand and the contents, revealed to be doorknobs, soared to every desk, one between each pair of students.

'The objective of the exercise,' he said, 'is for one student in a pair to use the Locking Charm on the doorknob, and once it has been tested, for their partner to use the Unlocking Charm and then switch roles. The incantations for the spells can be found in _The Standard Book of Spells_ on page four and five. Remember: the key to successfully charming an object is an appropriate level of concentration on both your object and your spell. Keep in mind, however, that this always differs among wizards performing the same charm on the same object - so do not allow yourself to be swayed by another's work where Charms is concerned. A charm's effectiveness relies on precise control in channeling your magical essence through your wand. You may begin.'

Su opened her book to the prescribed pages; she frowned when Linnea didn't do the same but didn't say anything.

'I will lock it and then you do the Unlocking Charm, is that alright?' she asked, to which Linnea responded with a nod.

Su took out her wand from the pocket of her robes and pointed it at the doorknob on their desk. '_Colloportus_.' The girl was definitely a Ravenclaw; she got it right on the first try. They heard a satisfying click as the key turned and when Linnea tried to turn the key in the lock, it wouldn't budge. She smiled at Su. The gesture was not returned.

'_Alohomora_.' The key instantly turned again.

'Well done, girls, the first pair done!' Professor Flitwick squeaked. 'Fives points to Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff!'

Linnea could see her fellow Hufflepuffs beaming at her and gave them a small smile.

'You've done this before,' Su noted.

'I did a lot of practise over the summer.' She nodded at this and looked pointedly at the doorknob, indicating that it was Linnea's turn. She pointed her wand at it and said, '_Colloportus_.' The key turned into the locking position again. Su pointed her wand at the doorknob.

'_Alohomora_.'

Nothing happened.

Su frowned down at it and repeated the spell. Still nothing happened. She tried a third time - nothing.

Linnea was frowning too. Her pronunciation was perfect, and the charm didn't require any special wand movements. Then she realized: she had put too much of her magical essence into it, just like when she had locked Dudley in the bathroom.

'Ummm, sorry, it's my fault,' she said; Su's eyes snapped up to her. 'I think I put a little too much force into it. Hang on, I'll unlock it.'

'No,' Su said, 'I'll do it.'

She tried about a dozen times before raising her hands in defeat. Linnea took this to mean that she could cast the Unlocking Charm and went ahead - only to have as much success as Su had.

'You're certainly quite powerful,' Su said - then she gave a little smirk. 'Too powerful even for yourself it would seem.'

'I'm sorry,' Linnea said miserably. 'I didn't mean to, it happens every once in a while.'

'Don't apologize for your own talents - they are yours, after all,' Su said swiftly. She then added, with a fair amount of embarrassment, 'And _I'm_ sorry for going off on you earlier - I know you were only trying to get to know me. I'm just a little defensive around people.'

'It's okay,' Linnea said with a smile. 'I came on a little too strong.'

Su smiled at her. _That is one deadly smile_, Linnea thought inadvertently.

The Chinese girl raised her hand; Professor Flitwick came over.

'How can I help you, girls?'

'Professor, Linnea here put a little too much into the Locking Charm and now neither of us can get it open,' Su explained.

Professor Flitwick looked at her with widened eyes as though what she were talking about was impossible. He pointed his wand at the doorknob and said, in what Linnea could swear was a lazy tone, '_Alohomora_.'

The key didn't budge.

The tiny teacher's eyes widened even more than before. He cast the Unlocking Charm with a little more concentration and the key turned once more.

'Thank you, Professor,' Linnea said brightly. Professor Flitwick nodded at her, staring. Then he abruptly turned around and walked away. When she looked around, Su was considering her with a thoughtful frown.

'Shall we go on?'

Su nodded, but the frown as she looked at Linnea never left her face.

* * *

It was finally evening. The Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs left the greenhouse side by side. Linnea walked near the center of the small crowd, discussing the Herbology lesson with her friends. Hermione Granger, whom she had been working with, and a boy named Neville Longbottom had grabbed ten points for Gryffindor with two well-answered questions; Linnea had taken the last question for five points. They had begun their study on magical plants and herbs that also held some significance in the Muggle world and that served as ingredients in some first-year potions.

'Last night you kept saying you wanted to be an asset to Hufflepuff,' Zacharias said with a smile. 'With fifty points under your belt on the first day, I'd say you're well on your way.'

Linnea laughed with the others at this. 'Well, I just hope I haven't hit my peak,' she said.

'Just leave a few points for the rest of us,' Ernie interjected. 'We can't let _all_ the teachers get wrapped around your finger, now can we?'

They laughed again, heading up the castle steps, watched by Professor Sprout. When the students had disappeared through the great double doors, she headed for the castle as well. She had an appointment with the headmaster and a few of her fellow teachers.


	5. Teachers' Conference

Pomona Sprout made her way through the ancient halls of Hogwarts, wondering why Professor Dumbledore had summoned her to his office when everyone else would most likely be down at dinner. What could be so secret and important that he would want to make sure that no one heard anything they discussed? Even as she wondered, she thought she probably knew the answer: Linnea Potter.

Pomona could tell that Albus was greatly interested in the girl, even before she had gotten to Hogwarts. This wasn't anything unusual, though; _everyone_ in their world was interested in Linnea Potter. She was sure that many people would probably sell their wands for a chance to get close to her. She was the Girl Who Lived, the one who had lifted the Wizarding world out of darkness - while only one year old. In her opinion, Linnea was dealing with people's expectations rather well. Even from the Top Table, Pomona could see that she had already established herself as the star of the first year Hufflepuffs; the others always kept close to her and hung on her every word. She was fast making friends, and not from just her own house; she and Hermione Granger, whom she had heard from the other Professors had quite the head on her shoulders, had worked together in Herbology, both scoring five points for their house.

The girl had positively beamed when she had presented her with the wand holster she had promised. She paid the utmost attention when shown how to use it and thanked her so much you would have thought that she had just been pulled away from a werewolf's fangs.

Yes, Pomona Sprout's liking for Linnea Potter, which had begun that very morning, was very quickly increasing.

She had come to the great stone gargoyle that concealed the entrance to the headmaster's office. She spoke the password, "Acid Pops", and it jumped aside, revealing a revolving spiral staircase. She stepped onto it and allowed herself to be carried up to the door of polished oak with a brass knocker in the shape of a griffin. She slammed it against the door in three precise knocks, at which Albus' voice beckoned her to enter.

She wasn't alone coming to this meeting - the other Heads of House were there; they were all seemingly waiting for her, for she had not heard them speak when she had been at the door. She bid Albus a good evening and he inclined his head in reception. There was a moment's pause, then he addressed them.

'Thank you all for joining me here at this hour,' he said. 'I wished to discuss a matter into which I have little to no insight. I was hoping that you might be able to shed a little more light on the situation concerned.'

'Would this "matter" happen to be a student of mine?'

'That's right, Pomona,' Albus replied. 'I believe that you have all had the chance to teach her today. I wish to discuss Linnea Potter.'

'What about her, Albus?' Minerva asked.

'I'd like to hear your observations on the girl from what you may have witnessed or felt in your lessons with her.'

'She smiles far too much,' Severus said with a very deep frown.

'It isn't a crime to smile, Severus.' Minerva said. 'I'm sure the students will agree with me when I say that you should try it once in a while.'

Pomona thought that Minerva herself could stand to smile more as well, but didn't say anything.

'I think it would be more productive if each one of you spoke in turn all you wish to say while the rest of us listen,' Albus said, his eyes twinkling in Severus' direction. 'Since you have been kind enough to start us off, Severus, why don't you go first?'

The Potions Master took a few moments to organize his thoughts and then began to speak. 'She seems to have a precocious knowledge and understanding of magic - she demonstrated the use of a charm that is yet to be taught in any class, as well as a jinx not covered in any of the first year set books. I would wager that she is far ahead of all her classmates in her knowledge of spells. Now that she has come to Hogwarts and has access to the library, I expect the gap will only continue to grow larger. She has certainly shown a liking for reading; I questioned her in class and she had no hesitation in answering all of my queries - with great confidence and precision, I might add. She finished the day's assignment in record time, which would again indicate prior reading and practise. When asked to give a demonstration on the effectiveness of her potion, she did not hesitate to hex herself -'

'She hexed herself?' Pomona interrupted sharply before she could stop herself.

'Please, Pomona, let us hold off any questions for the end, shall we?' When she nodded, Albus gestured at Severus to continue.

'Immediately after her demonstration, she started on the essay that I had set as homework then and there. From what I could see, she was almost done by the end of the lesson. She brought her own ingredients kit with her, which is something I haven't seen for years. Whether this is a show of self-reliance I cannot tell, but she seemed eager to learn how to properly handle various magical substances. Finally - if it is of any interest - she chose to work with a Slytherin in class - Draco Malfoy, no less. From how they were getting on, they must have met some time before.'

Silence fell as they took Severus' words in.

'I think I can now open the floor to questions for Severus,' said Albus.

'She hexed herself?' Pomona asked again.

Severus nodded. 'The potion of the day was a Cure for Boils. To demonstrate how effective her sample was, she performed the Pimple Jinx on her arm and drank the potion.'

'I don't know any girl - or boy - who would unblinkingly hex themselves just to prove that they had done something correctly, even if it was just a Pimple Jinx,' Pomona said slowly. The nods that followed her statement told her that they didn't know any such children either.

'Any more questions for Severus?' When no one replied, Albus went on to say, 'Well then, Minerva - you have the floor.'

'To be honest, the girl gave me quite the surprise; she succeeded in the task I had set mere seconds after I voiced it. She admitted that it wasn't her first time attempting it, and said that she took much longer - an hour, I believe - to achieve a satisfying result the first time she tried it out. She openly told me, in front of the entire class, that she was afraid that she would be no good at Transfiguration, and that she had practised it the most out of everything else over the summer to overcome this. Then she went around the class offering suggestions to the others. This is the first time I have had a class _all_ succeed at the introductory task before the end of the lesson.'

'I see,' Albus said. 'With whom was she partnered for the lesson?'

'Miss Taylor of Hufflepuff.'

Albus nodded. When there were no other queries, he moved on to Filius.

'She took Miss Li of my house for a partner in Charms. We were working on the Locking and Unlocking Charms. Miss Li and Miss Potter were the first pair to complete the task. I received a bit of a surprise later, though; Miss Li called me over and explained that she could not dispel Miss Potter's Locking Charm - and Miss Potter couldn't do it either. I myself took two attempts to open it.'

Shocked silence followed this revelation. If her expression appeared anything like those of her colleagues - even Severus - then she must look quite ridiculous indeed. Filius' description had left her virtually catatonic as she struggled to accept its implications.

'Are you suggesting,' Severus said slowly, 'that there exists a first year student with magical power comparable to any professor here at Hogwarts?'

'No, not at all,' Filius answered, shaking his head; they all seemed to let out a breath at that. 'I believe that she did it by accident.'

'Accidental magic?' Minerva asked with a frown.

'No,' Filius said again. 'She is completely aware of her spells and what she wants them to do, but if I could hazard a guess as to what happened to her, I would say that she is currently unstable; she is unable to properly control the force behind her magical essence when she focuses it into her wand to cast a spell - which would cause her spells' power to fluctuate. The fact that she and Miss Li didn't experience any more problems would certainly support this theory. It took me only a little more concentration on the charm to undo her spell, so she is still far from what we may call "professor level". I don't doubt, however, that her essence far outstrips that of the other first years - I wouldn't be surprised to see her perform a few second or third year spells right now, if her understanding of magic is as acute as Severus suggests. She is incredibly gifted in this regard - so gifted that she could be considered an anomaly. I don't care to imagine what she could become capable of as her essence continues to grow.'

The silence that followed Filius' pronouncement was the heaviest yet. Pomona knew that they were all seeing the girl in their mind's eye - that tiny, delicate-looking girl. It was quite the thought to wrap your head around.

'Could this instability of hers pose a threat to any students?' she asked.

'Potentially, yes,' Filius answered with a nod. 'With her, a simple Disarming Charm could turn into cannon fire, or a Knockback Jinx into the force of a troll's fist. She poses a great danger to herself as well; if she attempts to charm or hex herself, for example - as she has already done - at the wrong moment, the results could be disastrous.'

Pomona's breath hitched in her throat as she listened to her student being declared a danger to herself and others - that sweet, polite girl -

'And she has no inkling of this?' Minerva asked.

'If she has indeed been practising wandwork for as long as she said, then she has no doubt noticed the fluctuations. As to the threat that they pose, I do not think that she has realized it.'

More silence. It seemed that the more they pieced together about the Linnea Potter, the greater the associated risks and fears.

'Pomona, do you have anything to add?' Albus asked kindly.

She took a moment to answer. 'Nothing much, Albus. The girl is an absolute delight - sweet, polite and highly appreciative. She has a high amount of respect for, and is friendly with the other houses; she partnered with Miss Granger of Gryffindor during my lesson. She told me that she dearly wished to succeed at Hogwarts, and she seemed determined to raise the prospects of Hufflepuff House. She has a deep attachment to her wand; the girl's eyes positively lit up when she looked at it. She also said that she wants to have it on her person at all times, so I recommended her use of a holster. The idea appealed to her and she was more than grateful when I presented her with one. Even though it is only the first day, I would say that she has become the locus of the first year Hufflepuffs; the others are always around her, and they seem to value her opinion at the very least. She is quite influential for her age.'

'Manipulatively so?' Severus asked quietly.

'No,' Pomona answered, shaking her head. 'I didn't get the feeling that she was trying to manipulate anyone. She definitely wants to steer them in some direction, though.'

'I understand that she is your student, Pomona,' Minerva said in a voice that indicated she was sorry for what she was about to say, 'but the more I hear about her, the more I feel that she could turn out to be quite the hazard to the well-being of the school.'

Silence. Pomona knew that they were all agreeing with Minerva's words - she did too, as uncomfortable as it was. With all that had been said, she knew that Albus would probably deem it more than necessary for a close watch to be kept on Linnea Potter.

'Thank you,' Albus said to her with a small smile. 'Thank you all,' he went on, addressing the other professors, 'for offering me your observations. Having heard all that you have had to offer, I feel that we must address the issue of her unstable magical essence as swiftly as possible. It wouldn't do to leave the girl alone with the power to potentially injure her friends. Filius, what would you suggest be done?'

'The only thing that can help her is practise,' the Charms professor said. 'She should be able to get a handle on things as she continues casting spells. As to how long it could take for her to gain total control, I cannot say. Usually, witches and wizards in training strive to cast spells with as high a level of effect as they can possibly muster. I don't feel that that would be advisable for Miss Potter, though; she will need to learn to keep all her spells at an appropriate level before she can safely test her limits.'

'From what I have seen,' Severus said, 'it won't take much to get the girl to practise magic. She seems almost as bookish as Granger -'

'_Miss_ Granger,' Minerva corrected sternly.

'Yes, that one,' Snape retorted stubbornly. 'As I was saying, she will undoubtedly practise magic. She has a greater understanding of the art than Granger -' Minverva scowled. '-so we can expect her to become accustomed to her essence much faster than her, if their roles were reversed.'

'Would you then suggest that we watch her from afar, untethered?' Albus asked, to which Severus replied with a nod.

'I do not believe that she would react…productively if she learned that she was under closer observation by the teachers than her peers,' the Potions Master explained.

'So we mean to keep this information a secret from her?' Minerva asked incredulously. 'Would it not be more productive to let her know of her own problem? She has already shown a willingness to work on her weaknesses.'

'I agree, Minerva, but remember - what I have described is merely a theory; I have never actually observed such a thing in any witch or wizard.'

'That you know of,' Pomona interjected to Filius. Then she had a thought. 'Could this situation be a product of You-Know-Who's attack on her?'

'That is certainly more than possible.'

'Yes it is,' Albus said to himself thoughtfully. Then, more firmly, 'I do not think it wise to alert Miss Potter to the sensitivity of the situation. No matter her potential, she is an eleven-year-old girl; the news that she poses a threat to the school that she has so clearly taken to might be too much for her to handle.'

Filius and Severus nodded, but Minerva looked far from convinced. She didn't raise any more objections, however.

'I'm not sure I agree,' Pomona said with a sigh, 'but if that were the course that we shall take, will we do as Severus suggested and keep our distance - allow her to master herself on her own?'

'I do not think that would be wise either,' Albus replied. 'I do, however, agree with Severus - I fear that she may resort to some drastic action if she realizes that the Heads of House and the headmaster have placed such a close watch on her. The only viable course left to us is to employ an agent to help her overcome her instability.'

'You mean to have a student befriend her and report her progress to us?' Minerva asked shrewdly. Albus hesitated to nod.

'Not the most honorable of actions,' Severus observed. Pomona thought that if _he_ thought so, then it must be much worse than it truly sounded.

'This…agent wouldn't need to know anything either,' Filius said, distaste hanging on every word; he seemed compelled to contribute. Perhaps he had come to the conclusion that this may be their best option. 'A simple introduction would allow the two students to befriend each other.'

'You are forgetting a little detail: Miss Potter's unstable essence. How could we knowingly and willingly place one student in harms way for the sake of another?'

'Miss Potter is only truly dangerous to her fellow first years. She is yet to have much interaction with the older students, which greatly decreases the likelihood of any accidents with them. She can also only be hurtful to those below her level - an older and stronger student should have no problems with dealing with her spells, even if her essence acts out. The real question is _which_ student we think would be up to the task - possibly up to the point of engaging Miss Potter in a few sparring duels.'

'I have one in mind,' Pomona chimed in. 'Nymphadora Tonks of my house, seventh year.'

'The Metamorphmagus?' Severus asked dubiously. 'Her scores are excellent,' he added grudgingly.

'She aims to be an Auror,' Pomona said with a nod. 'I think it would be a good fit - I can see the two of them getting along at the very least.'

'Then that is what we shall do,' Albus said. 'Pomona, please introduce Miss Tonks and Miss Potter to each other as soon as you are able. I will leave the task of obtaining any needed information from Miss Tonks to you. As for the rest of us, we shall continue to keep an eye on Miss Potter - once again, I must ask you to make sure that she does not get wind of this.'

Minerva still looked like she disagreed, and Pomona shared her sentiments. But they were outnumbered in the vote and had to concede, however grudgingly.

'I'll say this for her: Miss Potter is certainly very open,' Minerva said. They all looked around at her in surprise.

'What makes you say that, Minerva?' Albus asked with great interest.

'Do you really think that we would have had so much to discuss about a person we just met today if she were secretive?'


	6. Hufflepuff vs Gryffindor

Linnea could scarcely believe it when she realized that she had been attending Hogwarts for close to two months. Time seemed to pass in a blur within the castle, no doubt owing to the fact that she had never felt happier than she did there - or it could be the enormous amount of work that the teachers now piled on them. The introductory lessons had been completed within the first week and from there the classes only got more challenging - not that she complained. She reveled in the opportunity to test and improve her skills. She visited the library as often as she could, most often doing research for her homework, but at other times looking to increase her roster of spells. She had found quite a few useful ones - and delightfully had a partner with whom she could try them.

Professor Sprout had introduced her to a seventh year girl named Tonks - she refused to divulge her first name - on her fourth day at Hogwarts. She had thought that Linnea would like to learn a few extra things from a much older student. She had been right.

Linnea liked Tonks immensely. She had a keen sense of humor, able to find the fun in any situation. She was no goof, though; Linnea soon came to understand that she was among the most gifted of the seventh years. She had said that she was working to become an Auror - someone that hunted and captured Dark wizards. It sounded like an impressive profession to Linnea, but she didn't know if it would suit her. For one thing, Tonks had mentioned that you needed to do further studying after completing seventh year; despite her love for the knowledge that books imparted to her, Linnea did not plan to spend her life cramming. For another, Linnea wasn't sure that she could be much of a fighter, owing to her small size.

She was learning though. She and Tonks would meet up whenever the latter was taking a break from studying for her final exams. They would often take refuge in an abandoned classroom and Tonks would teach her how to duel. She didn't teach Linnea any new spells - or even tell her of any to try; she insisted that that was up to the first year. Linnea often wondered why Professor Sprout had recruited Tonks to teach her about dueling. She could only think that as her Head of House, she wanted her to be the best witch she could possibly be.

The number of friends that she was making occasionally made her mind stagger as well. She had never imagined that _she_ would be the popular one among her peers. Yet she was. Everyone seemed to want to talk to her, to get to know her even just a little; she didn't recognize half the people that greeted her enthusiastically as she walked down the halls of the castle. She found that she didn't actually mind the attention, but it did make her self-conscious; she was just a first year, and the older students - especially the Hufflepuffs, of course - treated her like royalty. She almost died with laughter when Leanne told her that she heard some Ravenclaws refer to her as the "Hufflepuff Princess". She found herself thinking, on many an occasion, that she didn't want to betray the hopes that some of the castle's inhabitants, particularly the professors, seemed to have for her. She knew that she couldn't possibly please everyone, but she didn't want to give up without trying either. She often wondered if she felt this way because of the ten years she had spent at the bottom of the social ladder. She never did come up with an answer.

It was quite easy to make friends outside her own house - far easier than for her classmates at any rate. She was often seen crossing the Great Hall to join the other tables so she could talk to them, even the Slytherins. No one tried to stop her, not even anyone from Hufflepuff, for which she was extremely grateful.

Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger were her closest Gryffindor friends. She had, of course, gotten to know Ron on the Hogwarts Express. She had started getting closer to Hermione as the bushy haired girl insisted on partnering with Linnea in every lesson she could manage. She was incredibly book savvy - more so than herself - and had a quick mind. Linnea, however, was definitely better with a wand. She had to admit, though, that while she ruled Defense Against the Dark Arts, Charms and Potions, Hermione was the reigning champion of Transfiguration, Herbology and Astrology. Linnea had recognized the signs of loneliness and neglect in her - she had had them not so long ago, after all. She didn't get on very well with her fellow Gryffindors, and admitted herself that she hadn't had any real friends in her life. She didn't know how to deal with people short of correcting them. Linnea had convinced Ron to take care of her, but it was a difficult task for the redhead.

From Slytherin, there was Draco and a girl named Pansy Parkinson - though she wasn't entirely sure if Pansy considered her a friend in return. One moment she would be tolerant of Linnea's presence at the Slytherin table, if only grudgingly so, and the next she would be giving her a look that would make Linnea's blood turn cold. She was known to have quite a temper, and on the single occasion that they had been alone together, Linnea had had nervous and irrational imaginings of being attacked. She wasn't afraid of Pansy, but she had enough sense to know that crossing her could have dire consequences for both parties involved. Linnea liked her though; she stuck up for her fellow Slytherins - mostly through insults, sneers and the occasional slap across the face - especially Daphne Greengrass, the only first year shorter than Linnea, and her life-long friend.

Su Li of Ravenclaw had slowly grown a little warmer over their time at Hogwarts. She absolutely refused, though, to call her anything but "Linnea". She also wasn't very forthcoming in expressing her feelings or discussing anything outside their academics, which meant that among her friends, Linnea knew her the least. She was determined to crack through her shell. She knew that she wore one because when Cedric Diggory, a handsome third year Hufflepuff, had kindly greeted her when the two girls had been taking their dinner together, a shy smile had spread across her face. It had quickly disappeared when she had noticed Linnea's smirk, and she had promptly gone back to talking about the Forgetfulness Potion.

Cedric often came to talk to her about flying, which she had fallen in love with ever since her first lesson with Madam Hooch. She had often taken one of the school brooms out for a joyride in the evenings and had once been spotted by Cedric, who played Seeker on the Hufflepuff Quidditch team. He had been impressed and convinced her to try out for the Quidditch team as a reserve Chaser, as they didn't have any. She had made the cut - incredibly - and was now on the team, to the congratulations of her housemates. She went out to the Quidditch pitch for practice once a week, again using the old school brooms thanks to the restriction on first years not having their own. She had been terrified when she had first taken to the air with the other players and kept a fearful eye out for the Bludgers, lest they target her - a difficult prospect when you had to worry about carrying, passing and receiving the Quaffle, not to mention dribbling around the enemy players. They had eventually decided to teach her slowly, to help her build confidence. She enjoyed the game much more recently, but the captain had let her know that she probably wouldn't get to play any match that year. The first game of the season, Hufflepuff versus Gryffindor, was tomorrow - and the day after that would be Halloween.

She had noticed that both the team and the rest of the house were very nervous about the match. When she asked about it, Tonks had explained to her that the Quidditch matches often skewed house points much more than anything else did; if they lost tomorrow, they would lose the lead that they had acquired. How far they fell in the standings would depend on the game's point margin. If they won, they would increase the gap between themselves and the other houses. When they had attained the lead, some had sworn that it was because of Linnea's performance in classes, while others swore that it was simply a miracle. She didn't care either way; she would not let Hufflepuff lose the lead, not when they supposedly hadn't held it for at least seven years. And so she had put all she had into the Quidditch practices, if only to make sure that their starting team was at the top of their game.

The morning of the match had finally come. The air was clear and the sky cloudy, meaning that there would be no visibility issues due to bursts of sunlight to the eyes. There was no wind, either, so accuracy would be high for the Chasers and Beaters. The Great Hall was a babble of noise and excitement as they all hurriedly wolfed down their breakfast. Every time one of the players entered, there were great roars and cheers from their house tables. Somehow, Linnea could already tell that it was going to be an exciting match. Having never actually seen one, she was more eager than most for the game to start and so made it to the changing rooms early.

It didn't take long for the rest of the team to file in. The captain, Malcolm Preece, was a large sixth year boy with a square jaw; he was the team's lead Chaser. Heidi Macavoy and Tamsin Applebee were the other Chasers, both in fourth year. Maxine O'Flaherty and Anthony Rickett were the third and fifth year Beaters, and their Keeper was Gregory Munslow of fourth year. Cedric, of course, was their Seeker.

'Alright, listen up, team,' Malcolm said, looking around at them. 'It's been a while since Hufflepuff have been in the lead for the House Cup. Whether or not we win today could very well put us out of the running for the rest of the year. Our house is counting us - we aren't going to disappoint them. We're going to give those Gryffindors hell for getting in our way, am I understood?' He was greeted by everyone's cheers. 'Play the best you can, but play safe - that goes for you reserves as well, in case anything happens to any of us out there. Remember: the Seeker carries the team - and the team carries the Seeker. Okay, let's go!'

They followed him out onto the Quidditch pitch, which erupted in a storm of cheers as both teams appeared. Linnea and the other reserves made for the benches, from where they would have an excellent view of the action. The captains walked towards each other as their players flew up to take their positions; they shook hands and took to the air as well. The lead Chasers hovered directly above the casket that held the balls, waiting for Madam Hooch to begin the game.

Linnea couldn't believe the noise coming from the students in the stands. They screamed themselves hoarse, waving flags and banners decked with the team colors around: black and yellow for Hufflepuff, red and gold for Gryffindor. She spotted some of her friends; she needed to remember to tell them how crazy they looked.

'Welcome to the first game of the season, Hogwarts! Today's match is Hufflepuff versus Gryffindor, so we should see some nice, clean play - I'm sure Madam Hooch is happy -'

'Jordan!' Professor McGonagall said with a snap. Her eyes were narrowed at the dark skinned third year Gryffindor who was serving as commentator.

'I'm just saying it like it is, Professor,' Lee Jordan answered blithely into the tiny megaphone; it magnified his voice to fill the entire pitch. ' Madam Hooch comes onto the field to begin the match. The Bludgers are released - followed closely by the Golden Snitch. Remember, the team whose Seeker catches the Snitch will earn one hundred and fifty points and end the match. Madam Hooch has the Quaffle in hand. She throws it up…AND THE GAME BEGINS!'

It was utter chaos; all six Chasers had made for the airborne Quaffle in a blur of robes and wood. The Keeper of each team flew off to either side of the pitch to defend their goal hoops.

'It's quite a mess up there as the Chasers fight for the Quaffle - Gryffindor takes possession, that's Angelina Johnson belting up the pitch there. That girl is an amazing Chaser - among other things, as well -'

'Jordan, focus on the match!'

'Sorry, Professor, just adding a bit of color, is all. Johnson tears up the pitch and Hufflepuff Captain Malcolm Preece moves in to intercept - Johnson passes the Quaffle to Alicia Spinnet, a good find of Oliver Wood's - she's moving along there - she dodges a Bludger sent her way by O'Flaherty, passes the Quaffle to - no, Heidi Macavoy has the Quaffle now, Hufflepuff in possession - she passes to Captain Preece - reverse pass back to Macavoy - she dodges around Katie Bell, ducks under a Bludger by…Twin Weasley - she's got only the Keeper to beat now - she shoots - a great save by Gryffindor Keeper Oliver Wood! Gryffindor back in possession with Katie Bell carrying the Quaffle - she passes to lead Chaser Johnson - Johnson is practically a blur as she flies towards the Hufflepuff posts. She passes to Alicia Spinnet - Applebee has her marked - she passes to Bell - she - got hit by a Bludger from O'Flaherty, she certainly is vicious today - Bell drops the Quaffle - it's caught by Chaser Spinnet! Gryffindor presses their attack - Spinnet passes to Johnson - back to Spinnet - she dodges a Bludger, passes back to Johnson to avoid Preece - Johnson heads up to goal - she shoots…AND SCORES! Gryffindor takes the lead, ten points to nil!'

A fresh bout of cheers went up from the Gryffindor supporters as Angelina took a lap around the pitch, her fist held high. Through the noise, Linnea could hear them chant, 'Go, go, Gryffindor! Go, go, Gryffindor!' Fifteen minutes later, the score was ninety to thirty; Gryffindor had a solid lead. Linnea started to panic as Angelina and Alicia scored two more goals. They needed Cedric to catch the Snitch or they would lose - but there had been no sign of the tiny golden ball for the entire match; the Seekers had been doing nothing but flying in circles around the pitch. Even if the Snitch did appear, there was no guarantee that Cedric would catch it - they could still lose. In that moment, she realized what Captain Preece had meant back in the changing room. If the rest of the team did well enough, then a lot of pressure was lifted off the Seeker - their success wouldn't need to hinge upon a single player.

'Come on!' she yelled, jumping to her feet and alarming the other reserves. 'We have a lead to maintain, we can't go down like this!' Heidi may have heard her, because she scored a moment later, making it one hundred and ten to forty. They seriously needed to close the gap -

The Hufflepuff supporters suddenly let out a large, collective groan; Tamsin Applebee had just taken a Bludger to the face and had fallen off his broom down onto the grass, unconscious. A timeout was called as they went to check on him. Madam Hooch managed to revive him but after a moment's talk, Captain Preece was walking towards the reserves, Applebee's broom in one hand.

'Tamsin can't play any more - I need one of you to take him to the hospital wing. Linnea - time to fly.'

'W - What? You want _me_ to play?' Linnea stuttered.

'You're the only reserve Chaser we have,' Malcolm answered sadly. 'I'm sure you'll be fine, don't worry. Just play like we practised.'

Linnea's eyes looked towards Applebee, who was staggering drunkenly as he walked. She gulped, but stood up shakily and took the broom. 'Okay. I'll try my best.' Her heart was threatening to burst out of her chest as she mounted it.

'It looks like reserve Chaser Linnea Potter will be taking Applebee's place in this match,' Lee Jordan observed. 'She's only a first year, though, I hope she's been practising. The players once again take their positions. The Quaffle is up - and Johnson takes possession - she passes to Spinnet - and Potter takes it in midair - she's fast, I'll give her that. She's moving down the pitch - she passes to Macavoy - Macavoy dodges a Bludger and passes back to Potter - Potter in possession of the Quaffle and she - she drops it, right onto Captain Preece, great play there by the Hufflepuffs - Preece is free of any marks, and he's bolting along the pitch - he passes to Macavoy - she dodges another Bludger - a pass back to Potter - and a pass to Preece - this looks like quite a different team here; the Chasers look like they're reading each other's minds. Preece is in possession now. He's heading towards Wood - he aims - it's a feint! He passes to Potter - she passes to Macavoy, and…goal for Hufflepuff! The score is now one hundred and ten to fifty.'

The Hufflepuff supporters cheered wildly as Heidi punched the air in triumph. Linnea's heart was still beating wildly, but she was able to muster a small smile. She was doing alright so far. In her practices, Malcolm had made her focus on passing, and making sure that she was always where she needed to be; according to him, it was her strongest point. They would play around her positioning to throw off the Gryffindors.

'This match just got a whole lot more interesting - the Hufflepuff Chasers seem to have changed their style of play,' Lee remarked two Hufflepuff goals later. 'If this is what they really play like, then maybe Applebee should have gotten hurt sooner -'

'JORDAN!'

'Sorry, Professor. Potter's looking to be a promising player; she's doing quite well considering her inexperience. She's got possession of the Quaffle now - she passes to Macavoy and dodges a Bludger sent her way by Weasley - Macavoy passes back to Potter - Johnson moves in to intercept - no, she has to get out of the way of O'Flaherty's Bludger, she must be having a bad day - nice protection of her Chaser there, anyway. Potter's heading up to goal; Spinnet and Bell have both Preece and Macavoy marked - it looks like it's up to Potter now. This will be her first attempt on goal - can she do it?'

Linnea had her eyes narrowed as she watched the Gryffindor Keeper, Oliver Wood, hovering in front of the goal hoops. She was the only one who could make the shot. She hadn't practised scoring as much and wasn't too sure about her aim, but she had to try. The wind whistled through her hair as she sped up. Her and Wood's eyes met and she saw her chance. She let her gaze flicker for a moment to the hoop on her left and raised her arm, Quaffle in hand. She feinted; he fell for it and moved to defend the hoop - and she put the red ball through the center hoop.

The screams were deafening. The Hufflepuffs were on their feet, cheering her on. She sighed in relief. _Okay, I can do this_, she thought. _I just have to make sure Fred and George don't kill me_.

'Great goal there by Potter, she puts the score at one hundred and ten to eighty. The Hufflepuff Chasers seem to be camping on the Gryffindor side of the pitch now. I have to wonder why Preece didn't start Potter - her teamwork with the Captain and Macavoy is spot on. They once again have possession of the Quaffle - Macavoy in possession, she's moving up there - Weasley sends a Bludger her way - and it's knocked back by Rickett, excellent play by the Hufflepuff Beater! Macavoy passes to Potter - a pass to Preece - back to Potter - Johnson's on her tail - looks like Potter's just a little too fast, though. It's just her and Wood - AND SHE SCORES AGAIN! Potter with her second goal of the game. Twenty points now separate the two teams - I guess they don't call her the "Hufflepuff Princess" for nothing. I would keep a closer eye on her if I were you, Wood.'

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Oliver Wood nod to one of the Weasley twins. They were going to target her from now on. It didn't matter, though.

'Alright, we are resuming play, and - wait a moment…Cedric Diggory has the Snitch in his sights! He's really moving, there - Gryffindor Seeker Thomas Paley is right beside him and -'

Malcolm had warned her to never lose her concentration, as many of the other players were apt to do when the chase for the Snitch had began. She tuned Lee Jordan's commentary out and kept passing the Quaffle back and forth between her teammates. Only when she heard the screams did she let up.'

'Cedric Diggory catches the Snitch - the first match of the season goes to Hufflepuff! A bloody miracle if ever I saw one -'

'JORDAN, PLEASE!'

'Only joking, Professor, only joking. Diggory catches the Snitch and wins his house the game. The final score is one hundred and ten to two hundred and forty. Better luck next time, Gryffindor.' He couldn't hide the sad note in his voice.

The entire team had landed onto the pitch; they were beside themselves.

'We did it! Merlin help us we did it!' Heidi kept screaming. She gave Cedric a swift kiss and proceeded to jump around, squealing with glee; Maxine echoed her, which got Cedric blushing furiously.

'Calm down, calm down,' Malcolm said, though the smile he wore threatened to never leave his face. 'Let's get up to the common room - this calls for a celebration.'

They all happily followed him back to the changing rooms to the applause of their supporters. Cedric caught her eye.

'What, no kiss from you?'

It was her turn to blush.

* * *

'You were AMAZING!' Leanne screamed as she assaulted her at the entrance to the common room.

'I only scored two goals, Leanne,' she said, laughing. The other girl shook her head.

'You did a lot more than that. You went on and - and - the comeback! It was unbelievable, I've never seen anything like it!' She turned around and shouted, 'Everyone!' The occupants of the common room fell silent and looked at her. 'I give you the Hufflepuff Princess!'

Screams, shouts, whistles and clapping were all she could register. She smiled.

'Hang on, the real hero is Cedric, he caught the Snitch!'

The Hufflepuffs renewed their cheering and engulfed a protesting Cedric in hugs. She laughed just as she felt a hand on her shoulder. It was Malcolm.

'He may have caught the Snitch, but I want you to be proud of what you did out there - you played beautifully. If things had gone on the way they had been, it wouldn't have mattered if we got the Snitch - we would have lost. We have a good lead on both the Quidditch Cup and the House Cup now, thanks to you. Hufflepuff is lucky to have you, Princess.'

Linnea smiled in appreciation. As she feared, the title was starting to stick.

'I hope you're ready for the party,' Leanne said, taking her hand and dragging her to the other first years, who were beaming and waving. 'And don't you dare say that you're tired, everyone wants to hang out with you more.'

'What d'you mean?' Linnea asked with a little frown. It was Hannah who answered.

'We think it's great that you have friends in the other houses, but you spend a lot of time with them. You aren't at the Hufflepuff table very often and in the evenings you're either in the library, doing assignments, at Quidditch practice or off with Tonks. We - we've kind of been missing you a little, Lin.' An embarrassed smile appeared.

Linnea was sure that she was about to break down into tears. They seemed to notice, for a lot of them frowned.

'Sorry, I've never really been missed before,' she explained with a smile.

'Well, you have been now. I think it's something you'll have to get used to,' Leanne said. 'Okay, guys, will you please tell her how brilliant she was today?'

They all started talking quickly, each one describing how she had looked on the broom. She knew that they were exaggerating a little, but she didn't mind. She smiled at her friends and inwardly thanked them. They were the best she could have ever hoped for.

'You mentioned that there'd be a party,' she said, looking around. 'It wouldn't be much of a celebration without food.'

Leanne shook her head. 'Just what d'you think is the best thing about the Hufflepuff common room?'

She thought for a moment and then answered, 'It's right next to the kitchens.'

Right on cue, the common room entrance opened again and in walked some boys carrying a voluminous amount of all kinds of snacks and cakes, as well as numerous bottles. Everyone dove upon the food, and the Wizarding Wireless began to blare out music. At Leanne's signal, the first years went up to the boy's dormitory - it was very hard for a boy to get into the girl's rooms - laden with snacks and many a bottle.

'So whose bed is whose?' Leanne asked, smiling at the three Hufflepuff boys, who were looking very self-conscious at the moment.

'There are five of us and three of them,' Susan mused. 'How about we play a little game to decide which boy gets which girls? Me and Hannah will go to one, Megan and Leanne to another, and the last lucky guy can have Lin all to himself - a princess needs a prince, after all.'

They all laughed and nodded.

'We'll play spin-the-bottle to decide,' Linnea said brightly. When a lot of them looked mystified, she went on to explain how to play.

'That sounds brilliant,' Megan said. Linnea noticed her glance at Justin furtively. 'First group is me and Leanne, then.'

They managed to find an empty bottle and spun it on the wooden floorboards.

'Come on, Ernie. Ernie, Ernie, Ernie,' Leanne chanted, making Ernie blush furiously; the girls all laughed. The bottle came to a stop, pointing at Justin. 'Aaaw, sorry, babe, next time,' Leanne said mischievously, winking at Ernie. She, Megan and Justin went over to his bed; the Muggleborn boy had a huge Cheshire grin plastered on his face.

'Okay, now me and Hannah,' Susan chimed. She spun the bottle again. It eventually came to a quivering halt, pointing at Zacharias, who covered his face with his hands, saying, 'Noooooooooo.'

'Hey, two is always better than one,' Hannah said in a playful voice. Laughing, the girls pulled a smiling Zacharias to his bed.

'I guess that just leaves my prince,' Linnea said brightly, looking at Ernie; he couldn't seem to meet her gaze. They went and sat on his bed. It was very comfortable. 'What is this, by the way?' she asked, eying the bottle in her hand.

'Butterbeer,' Ernie answered quietly; he uncorked the bottle for her. She smiled appreciatively and took a sip.

'This is delicious!' she exclaimed, promptly taking a large gulp.

'Well, it wouldn't be funny if the Princess didn't approve of the food,' Leanne said with a laugh, uncorking her bottle, which she raised. 'To Linnea Potter, the Girl Who Saved Hufflepuff.'

They all raised their bottles with cries of assent and drank. Linnea felt a little blush creep up on her cheeks. She then raised her own bottle. 'To friends; I don't know where I'd be without you all.' They cheered and drank again.

'To Applebee,' Justin said, 'for getting hit by that Bludger before the match ended, bless him.'

They laughed uproariously and kept drinking. They talked, they danced, they played games. It didn't take Linnea long to realize that butterbeer wasn't just any old drink; true to its name, she could feel herself getting a little tipsier with every swig she took. She didn't mind the feeling at all - she felt somehow braver, like she could do anything in the world. The sensation finally broke her borders and she gave Prince Ernie a swift peck on his lips. The poor boy looked like he was about to faint.

'Well done,' Justin said, making his way over and clapping him on the back. 'First kiss at eleven, I'm impressed.'

'That wasn't a kiss, that was a peck,' Linnea giggled.

'Well, seeing as how our common sense has flown out the window,' Leanne said with a smirk. 'How about we have a little kissing game?'

The girls all squealed and the boys suddenly looked alarmed, as if they had just realized that they had wandered into an Acromantula's nest. They looked at each other as each girl grabbed an arm and pulled them down onto the floor.

'Spin-the-bottle again?' Megan asked. Linnea saw her eyes dart once again to Justin.

'Yeah, that's okay,' Hannah said, 'but let's make it so that every boy gets only one kiss from one girl. Ernie already has Linnea, so they should go first.'

'Hey, I already kissed him,' Linnea said.

'If I remember correctly,' Leanne said with an evil smile, 'you said that wasn't a kiss.'

Linnea gave a huff then turned and smiled at Ernie. 'Ready?'

'Er…'

Linnea laughed, took his shoulders and jammed her lips against his in a clumsy kiss. The others egged them on with cheers and wolf whistles. They broke apart five seconds later; Linnea was giggling at the dazed expression on Ernie's face.

'Our turn next!' Susan shrilled. She spun the bottle on the floor; it took a few tries, but it eventually landed on her. She jumped a little in delight and grinned at Hannah, who had sighed in resignation. She grabbed Zacharias and pulled him towards her. Their lip-lock lasted about as long as Linnea and Ernie's had, and when she pulled away they were both flushed.

'Okay, last but not least: dear old Justin.' Leanne spun the bottle and it came to rest on her. A flash of hurt passed across Megan's face, and she seemed to catch it, for she said, 'Hmmm…I think Miss Jones would be more appreciative of this opportunity - I surrender all kissing rights to her.'

Like a spring uncoiling from years of tension, Megan shot forward, knocking Justin flat onto the floor and kissed him with such passion that they all went silent. After what seemed an eternity, she broke away, her face crimson.

'Good job, Megan,' Leanne said with an approving nod. 'Justin, I think your dating future is looking quite bright already.'

They all laughed, and the girls decided that they wanted to dance more, so they stood up and frolicked around the room, shouting at the boys to join them. They were still recovering.

'Did all that really just happen?' Zacharias whispered slowly.

'It did,' Ernie confirmed; his eyes were fixed on Linnea. 'The butterbeer really got to them. No surprise - they were downing every bottle they could reach.'

'I thought that having a girl mad at you was scary - I was wrong; being around a bunch of happy girls is much more terrifying,' said Justin. Then he smiled, looking at Megan. 'Though it does seem to have some benefits.'

* * *

Linnea took a few moments to open her eyes and found herself curled up beside Ernie on his bed. She froze. Then her hand went up to her mouth as everything came flooding back. Her first kiss - no, her first, second _and_ third kiss, all gone in a single night of laughter and joy. She looked up at Ernie; he was sleeping peacefully. The quiet breathing from her fellow first years told her that she was again the first to awaken. Ernie had his arm around her. She extricated herself, careful not to wake him, and crept to the door.

'Wotcher, Lin.'

She jumped; Tonks was just outside. She had been heading down to the common room and had turned when she opened the dormitory door. She had a huge grin on her face and looked like she was fighting hard not to burst out in laughter.

'Doing the walk of shame at eleven - kids these days grow up so fast.'

'What time is it?' Linnea asked in a disgruntled voice.

'Just past nine. Don't worry,' Tonks added when she saw Linnea don a mask of panic. 'A notice went up on the notice board last night: no lessons today, it's a free Halloween. Someone would have been along to wake the lot of you, otherwise.'

Linnea nodded slowly, her skin steadily turning redder and redder. Memories were coming to her one by one.

'There's still time to catch some breakfast. Why don't you take a shower and we'll go down to the Great Hall together?'

Linnea gave another nod, went to her dormitory and got ready. She met Tonks down in the common room and they went to the Great Hall.

There was hardly anyone there, much less at the Hufflepuff table. They took seats opposite each other and silently pulled whatever they wanted towards them. Linnea was just taking a sip of coffee when Tonks asked, 'So how was your first kiss?'

She choked and coughed hard, trying to clear her throat. Tonks was grinning at her again. 'How did you -?'

'You guys were making quite a racket up there. Some people went up to see what you were up to and they caught some of the action, which was of course reported to the entire Hufflepuff common room.'

Linnea groaned and covered her face with her hands. 'Brilliant. I'm never drinking butterbeer again.'

'You'd be surprised how many previously unassuming first and second years have said the exact same thing,' Tonks said with a small laugh. 'I can guarantee that you will indeed drink butterbeer again, Lin. I wouldn't worry about last night too much.'

'Wouldn't worry?' Linnea asked incredulously. 'How could I not worry? I gave up my first kiss - just like that! I'm eleven!'

'It was certainly more than one from what we heard,' Tonks chortled. When Linnea hid her face again, she smiled. 'When you're a little young and naive - Merlin that makes me sound old - you naturally make a big deal out of a first kiss. But trust me - you won't be trying too hard to remember it as you grow up.'

'What d'you mean?'

'You'll discover that there will be a kiss much more important than your first ever - your first kiss with a guy who matters.'

Linnea pondered this for a long time. 'Is that really true?'

'Yes it is,' Tonks said firmly. 'I've had three boyfriends so far, and as far as firsts go, I only really care about my first kiss with the second one. He moved out of the country, though, so we had to break up. And I know that one day, even that kiss will stop being so important to me when I find someone else.'

They fell silent as the older girl allowed her to think about what she said. It made sense on some level, but she couldn't help but feel a little bad. In her head, she had always romanticized the moment of her first kiss. She supposed that was the difference between the ignorant and the mature.

'There's a lot of stuff that's more important than that kiss, you know,' Tonks went on thoughtfully. 'Like how much the two of you get along after, how much you understand each other, that sort of thing. If you put all your hopes and feelings into a single moment with nothing left for later, you're just going to get disappointed - or worse, hurt.'

'You're more mature than you look,' Linnea observed as she watched the seventh year's hair turn from black to shocking pink. She had been quite impressed to learn that she was a Metamorphmagus, capable of changing any facet of her appearance at will. She was the only one at Hogwarts.

'I know,' Tonks said brightly. 'So again: I wouldn't worry about last night if I were you. When you get older and find that guy who makes you stupid and trip all over yourself, you'll be laughing about it.'

'Thanks, Tonks,' Linnea said with a smile.

'Don't mention it. You didn't answer my question, though: how was it?'

Linnea considered. 'Not at all how I thought it would be. It was tasty - I liked it.'

'Clearly, if you were willing to go back for seconds.'

Linnea scowled. 'How is butterbeer legal in the school anyway?'

'It doesn't have any alcohol,' Tonks answered, 'just some Euphoria Elixir and a couple of other things. You'll notice that you remember everything that happened. You were totally aware and in control of your actions - you were just too happy to let your inhibitions stop you, or for the consequences to matter. But you must have drunk a lot to be _that _happy.'

Linnea scowled again as Tonks laughed, shaking her head. 'Come on, let's go practise.'

'No, I thought we could just hang out today - just the two of us.'

'Really? Won't you get bored or anything? I'm just a first year.'

'Linnea,' Tonks said, laughing again, 'if last night proved anything, it was that we have some very interesting first years on our hands.'

* * *

Linnea and Tonks spent about two hours together; the seventh year seemed to want to get to know her a little better. They went flying around the grounds, dipped their feet into the Black Lake while they stopped for a chat and even dropped in on Hagrid in the afternoon. They then parted ways and Linnea immediately went back to her dormitory to check on the girls. Contrary to her own reaction, Susan and Megan seemed quite pleased by the events of the previous night - their smiles said as much, at least. She spent the rest of the day with them. When it was time for dinner, she passed by the entrance to the Gryffindor common room to pick Hermione up, as they had agreed. She wasn't there. Frowning, she went to the Great Hall by herself.

Floating jack-o-lanterns could be seen as far as the Top Table, surrounded by clouds of live bats. The fact that this was the anniversary of her parents' death had not escaped Linnea, and she silently thanked them for her being there. She let her eyes fall on the Gryffindor table and couldn't see Hermione among the first years. She went over to them.

'Ron, have you seen Hermione? We were supposed to meet up for the feast in front of the Gryffindor common room.'

Ron's ears went red and he muttered something unintelligible. She raised her eyebrows.

'She's been in the second floor girls' bathroom all afternoon,' Parvati Patil said coolly, glaring at Ron.

'All afternoon? Why?' Linnea asked.

'She and Ron had a row,' Sally-Anne Perks answered, also giving Ron a death glare. 'He said some pretty mean things to her, and she's been in there crying ever since. We tried to convince her to come out, but she threatened to hex us if we didn't leave. She wanted to be left alone.'

Linnea's eyes narrowed as she looked back at Ron. He had the good grace to look ashamed of himself.

'I seem to remember asking you to help Hermione as much as you could - you agreed. So what's this?'

'I - I don't know _how_ you want me to help her!' Ron sputtered.

'Well telling her that she was a know-it-all and that she's a nightmare no one can stand certainly didn't help her,' Parvati spat.

'You told her _what_?' Linnea breathed. Ron's expression of guilt worsened, and that was all that stopped Linnea from pulling her wand out of her sleeve and cursing him. She took a breath to steady herself and said, 'Ron, when I asked you to help her, I wanted you to be _nice_ to her. I'm sure it hasn't escaped your notice that she isn't very good at socializing. I thought if at least one person from her house made an effort with her, she would loosen up. Speaking of that,' she added, rounding on the Gryffindor girls. 'This is as much your fault as Ron's.'

'What? Why?'

'I see how you all act around her - you've made her a pariah. That's why I asked Ron for help in the first place. Gryffindor must be full of selfish prats if they can't even take care of their own housemates. You,' she snapped at Ron, who immediately looked frightened. 'Stop stuffing your face, we're going to go get Hermione.'

'I - I don't thinks she wants to see me,' Ron muttered.

'I'm sorry, did I start that sentence with the word "please"? I'm not asking - I'm telling you: we're going to go get Hermione.'

He looked a little indignant at being told off so badly in front of his house, but at the look on Linnea's face he stood up and followed her out the Great Hall.

'I can't believe you'd say something like that, Ron. I thought better of you,' Linnea said acidly. 'Draco gave me the worst first impression, but he's at least proven to have some civility. If this is what you're really like, I don't think I want to be your friend any more.'

He looked stricken at her words but didn't say anything, just followed her. They came to the second floor and she made for the girls' bathroom. Before she could reach it, however, a foul stench reached her. She stopped, crinkling her nose. They then heard deep grunting, and the shuffling of gigantic feet; her eyes widened as she spotted a huge shadow on the wall. She grabbed Ron and pulled him behind a pillar. They remained hidden and watched as a mountain troll appeared around the corner. It stepped slowly forward, dragging a large club behind it. She gasped when it stopped in front of the bathroom door and regarded it.

_No. Please, please, don't go in_. It went in.

'Come on, let's go,' she said urgently, pulling on Ron's sleeve. When he didn't move, she turned around and saw him staring at her incomprehensibly. 'Let's go,' she repeated.

'B - but - that was a troll. Shouldn't we go get help?'

'It'll be too late! We have to help Hermione!'

'M - maybe she's not in there any more -'

Linnea lost control; her hand flew to his face before she knew what she was doing. Ron reeled away from the blow, his eyes wide.

'Some Gryffindor you are. Don't ever speak to me again.'

A scream rent the air. Linnea ran as fast as she could, her robes billowing behind her. She burst into the bathroom; Hermione stood staring in horror at the troll as it raised its club, getting ready to swing. She pulled her wand out of its holster and pointed it at the back of the troll's head.

'_Flipendo!_'

The force of her spell caused the troll to grunt with pain and stumble.

'Hermione, get over here!'

She didn't need to be told twice; the Gryffindor dashed across the floor towards her. Linnea grabbed her hand and started pulling her towards the door - right before the troll's club crashed into it, blocking their exit.

'Hermione, your wand, use your wand!' Linnea said urgently, turning back and pointing her own back at the troll's head; it was coming slowly towards them, fists raised and roaring in rage. '_Flipendo!_'

The troll stumbled backwards for a moment, then gave an even louder roar and charged at them. Its fist came crashing down on where they had just been; Linnea had pushed Hermione out of the way and dove in the other direction.

'Lin, I - I've lost my wand!' Hermione wailed.

Linnea cursed under her breath. She raised her wand again. '_Diffindo!_'

The spell sliced right through the troll's side - and caught Hermione in the chest. Linnea screamed as the girl's blood spattered on the walls and she crumpled onto the ground like a rag doll.

'Hermione! Hermione!' She didn't respond.

Linnea looked back at the troll; it was on its knees, moaning in pain as it gripped its open side. She felt fury the likes of which she had never thought possible and raised her wand again. '_Magna incendia!_'

The flames that came out of her wand were nothing like before: they raged and roared in a voluminous mass, bathing the lavatory in red light. They hungrily consumed the troll, which screamed as its flesh burned. It crashed down moments later, dead. Her fire didn't diminish any and continued to burn it to a husk.

She rushed as fast as she could to Hermione's side. She was unconscious and bleeding quite badly.

'No, no, no,' she said hysterically. She couldn't even notice the stench that was filling her nose. 'Hermione, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to. I'm sorry!' She was crying now. She raised her wand to the slash she had inflicted and whispered, '_Incendio_.'

She kept the flames as low as she could and slowly cauterized the wound; Hermione convulsed slightly at the pain, but didn't wake up. When she was finished, she lay her ear against Hermione's chest and sighed in relief when she found that she was breathing. But it was weak. She needed to get Hermione to the hospital wing -

'What's going on in there? Open this door at once!'

She looked up in alarm at the pounding on the door; the troll's club still held the door closed. She pointed her wand and it, concentrating hard, and once again cast the Knockback Jinx; it was blasted away from the door and into the bathroom stalls. The door immediately burst open, and in came Professors McGonagall, Snape, Quirrell and Sprout.

'Miss Potter!' Professor McGonagall shrieked when the scene reached her eyes. 'What is going on?'

'Please - please get Hermione to the hospital wing. I - I didn't mean to hurt her, it was an accident. I closed it up with _Incendio_ but she's really weak. Please -'

'I'll take her,' Professor Snape said quickly. He stepped forward and scooped the girl in his hands. Linnea was too distraught to see him look at Professor Sprout darkly and mouth, 'Find out what happened here.'

When he left, she immediately asked, 'Miss Potter - Linnea - can you tell us what happened?'

Linnea took a few calming breaths before saying, 'I came looking for Hermione with Ron Weasley. We saw the troll come into the bathroom and I came in to help her.'

'Mr. Weasley is the one who directed us to this bathroom, Linnea.'

'He was scared, he wouldn't come help me and Hermione.' Her expression suddenly became furious. 'This is _his_ fault. If he wasn't such a coward, we could've handled it better. I wouldn't have had to use the Severing Charm and Hermione wouldn't be -' She suddenly faltered, her eyes tearful. 'No, it's my fault. _I_ trusted Ron with taking care of Hermione. _I_ trusted him to be brave. _I_ cast the Severing Charm. I - I hurt Hermione. I - I -'

She slumped onto the floor, her vision going black.


	7. Houses Unite

Pansy sat in one of the squashy armchairs of the Slytherin common room, a book held out in front of her. She wasn't reading, though; her mind was flooded with thoughts.

Professor Snape had come in and taken all the Slytherin prefects with him, presumably to assist with the situation - there was apparently a troll loose in the dungeons of the castle. When they came come back, however, it was to report that the troll had attacked a student - Granger - and that Potter had stepped in to help her. They were both in the hospital wing. She had silently wondered how they could be in the care of Madam Pomfrey and not dead when the prefects went on to explain what had happened. Potter had defeated the troll by burning it to death and Granger had gotten caught in the crossfire. Potter fainted from shock - hence the hospital wing.

Needless to say, the tale got the entire house whispering to each other about the exploits of the Hufflepuff Princess. Thanks to her, Hufflepuff House was getting a modicum of the respect that it had been denied for at least a decade, if that. It was amazing how high an influence Linnea Potter already held within the walls of Hogwarts - and how well she was doing in the Wizarding world, considering her upbringing.

When she had first arrived at Hogwarts, the Slytherins hadn't been sure how to act towards the Girl Who Lived. One thing was certainly true of their house: many of them reveled in the Dark Arts and the power they provided. Most among them were the children of former Death Eaters. Even her parents, who hadn't been privy to the Dark Lord's inner circle, had fully supported him. When he fell at the hands of little Linnea Potter, many a Slytherin family had been torn apart; with their master's protection gone, scores of Death Eaters had been killed and imprisoned. As a result, there were three classes of Slytherins as far as relating to Linnea Potter was concerned: those that tried to befriend her for their benefit, those who hated her and wished her dead or worse, and those who reserved judgment.

She looked to her left; Draco sat next to her, completing a Transfiguration essay. He was in the first group. His father had instructed him to befriend Linnea Potter, no doubt to further his interests in the Ministry and secure his family's standing in their world. Pansy suspected that the Hufflepuff was aware of this, though; she often came to their table for a chat with Draco and herself, but she always seemed to shy away from Draco's attempts to get closer to her. As a result, he was making very little progress towards gaining her confidence. Needless to say, his father wasn't very pleased.

It was often alarming to realize just how many of her housemates hated Potter - alarming, but not surprising. They blamed her for their misfortune - the absence of their parents and the ridicule and shame they had had to go through at the fall of the Dark Lord. Their families had once been the pinnacle of class and sovereignty during the last war, but were now considered to be the dregs of the Wizarding world. Yes, Potter had many enemies in Slytherin - and Pansy was sure that she knew that as well. She could only suppose that she continued visiting the Slytherin table because she knew that none of them would actually dare to attack her. Even if someone was foolish enough to think that they could get away with it, there was the simple fact that none of them wanted to pick a fight with her, despite her being a first year; no one in their right mind would challenge the girl who defeated the greatest Dark wizard of all time when she had been just a baby.

And finally, there was the last batch of the Slytherins - she considered herself among them. She had tried hard to hate Potter during the first few weeks at Hogwarts, but had somehow not been able to manage it. She could tell that Potter respected her. And though she would rather cut off her own tongue than speak the words out loud, Pansy knew that she held respect for Linnea Potter as well.

She didn't rub her fame in people's faces, but she didn't cast it away, either; she embraced and nurtured it through her own accomplishments. She used it to make friends across the houses - and quite impressive friends at that. Despite her being Muggleborn, there was no doubt that Hermione Granger was the sharpest witch in their year - much cleverer than those of pure blood, like herself. With the right conditioning, she would undoubtedly go on to become a great success in their world. Then there was the Ravenclaw girl, Su Li. She appeared ordinary at first glance, but Pansy had sensed a quiet sort of strength and power emanating from her. The first thought she had had after meeting her was that she was not to be trifled with. Leanne Taylor was a flirtatious dolt on the surface, but she had the ability to rally people behind her schemes, no matter how ridiculous they were - she could grow to be a leader.

Pansy was proud of her ancestry and upbringing, but she would not fall prey to the same trap as her parents and many in her house; they were too quick to dismiss anyone that they did not deem worthy, as they would undoubtedly find Granger. She, however, refused to remain oblivious to the talents and strengths of those around her. Such information was vital to finding the right friends to keep and whom to stay away from. From where Pansy stood, it seemed that Potter knew this on some level, but she knew that the Princess wasn't choosing her friends based on their abilities or planning to use them - she actually liked them and wanted to make as many as possible. That was the biggest difference between Pansy Parkinson and Linnea Potter; in all her life, she had considered only Daphne to be her friend. She kept even the other Slytherin girls at arm's length, waiting for the right moment to get closer to them.

Potter herself was impressive enough to warrant her fame. In two months, the first year had become the star of Hufflepuff House - and not without reason. Her performance in classes often left her classmates grumbling as she scored point after point for her house, accelerating its push for the House Cup. She had almost single-handedly turned the Quidditch match around when Hufflepuff had been losing. And now she had burnt a fully grown mountain troll alive. Pansy couldn't even imagine which spell a first year could use to that effect.

She resolved to keep a close eye on Potter and the little band that she was obviously trying to create - maybe even join it if an opportunity presented itself. At the very least, they would provide her with some entertainment during her years at Hogwarts.

* * *

Linnea opened her eyes and stared at the unfamiliar plain white roof. She lay in an extremely warm and comfortable bed, covered by a thin white sheet. She slowly sat up, running a hand through her hair.

'Lin? Lin, are you awake?'

She looked around at the weak voice. There was Hermione, in a bed identical to her own. She must be in the hospital wing.

'What happened?' she asked slowly.

'You fainted. Madam Pomfrey said you were in shock.'

She nodded slowly as the incident with the troll came rushing back. She opened her mouth to say something, but her breath hitched in her throat and she could feel the sting of tears in her eyes.

'Lin, what's wrong? Are you okay?'

She gulped. Hermione was worried about _her_. She was the reason she was there in the first place. She couldn't hold it in - the tears fell, accompanied by soft sobbing.

'Lin?' Hermione tried to get out of bed to go comfort her friend, but she was too weak; she collapsed and simply stared at the crying Hufflepuff. 'Lin, what's wrong?'

'I'm sorry,' Linnea said softly. 'I hurt you really badly. I'm so sorry.'

'What are you talking about? You saved me from the troll.'

'But _I_ hurt you - I almost killed you, Hermione. That was me, not the troll.'

They didn't speak for a long time; the only sound in the hospital wing was Linnea's soft crying. She felt wretched and dirty; she had never imagined that she could hurt any of her friends, but it had happened. She was an eyesore…

'Lin,' Hermione said as firmly as she could, 'just where do you think I would be right now if you hadn't shown up in that bathroom?' When Linnea didn't answer, she continued, 'I would be _dead_. I won't coddle you though - you _did_ hurt me, and you _are_ the reason I'm here in the hospital wing. But you're also the reason I'm still breathing. All things considered, I think I prefer that you put me in here than having the troll bludgeon me.'

Linnea's sobbing was slowly subsiding as she drank Hermione's words in. She could feel a tiny bubble of happiness appear somewhere in the pit of her despair - Hermione didn't hate her. Linnea certainly hated herself for what she had done, but Hermione didn't. That simple fact meant more to her than she could have ever explained.

'Besides,' Hermione said, 'you did your best to correct your mistake; Madam Pomfrey was saying that using _Incendio_ to seal up my injury was very quick thinking on your part. She was very impressed.'

Linnea mustered enough courage to look at Hermione; she was smiling at her. Despite her now silent tears, Linnea managed to smile back.

'Seriously, don't worry about it - I'm really grateful.'

Linnea nodded, slowly calming down. The happiness and relief inside her was growing. She looked around at the hospital wing - she could see that it was still nighttime through the windows.

'Did they figure out how the troll got in?' she asked.

'No,' Hermione answered sadly. 'They were in here about an hour ago asking me if I had any idea, actually. Someone must have let it in, though; a mountain troll isn't intelligent enough to make its way out of the dungeons all the way to the second floor without some kind of guidance.' She frowned. 'I also find myself wondering why a troll was being kept at Hogwarts.'

'You're _assuming_ that it was already inside the castle,' Linnea said. 'Someone could have brought it in any time today - it was a free day, after all.'

'It's possible, but I don't think so. There's no way you could get a troll across the grounds and into the castle without _someone_ noticing. I'm convinced it already had to be in the castle - though _what_ they were doing with it I have no idea. But if we assume that it was in fact already inside, that lowers our number of suspects considerably; it had to be a staff member.'

'Because if a student knew about the troll, word would have definitely reached the entire school,' Linnea mused, nodding. 'So that leaves the staff being the only ones who could know about it - meaning only they could have let it out of wherever it was.' Linnea smiled. 'You're really smart, Hermione.'

'Thanks, but you're not so bad yourself, you know,' Hermione said with a laugh. Then she sobered and looked down, playing with her sheets. 'Actually, I wish I could be more like you.'

'Really? Why?'

'Doing well in class isn't all you're good for - you're popular, everyone just adores you…'

'Not everyone,' Linnea corrected with a small smile. 'I think a lot of the Slytherins would love to chop me into little pieces, to be honest. Draco is only being friendly for the benefits of getting close to the Girl Who Lived - I'd like to try and change that, though. Pansy…I'm not sure what she's up to, but I don't think she considers me a friend - at least, not yet.'

'Alright, so the Slytherins aren't your biggest fans, but that's to be expected; they don't really like anyone, do they? Everyone else almost kisses your feet and we've been here only two months.'

'I don't mean to get this kind of attention -' Linnea began.

'But you don't mind it either, do you?'

'No, I don't,' Linnea admitted. 'I'm just trying to make as many friends as I can. My fame helps me along with the other houses, at least. I went ten years without having any friends, Hermione. Some people would say that I was just trying to make up for that.'

'It doesn't matter,' Hermione said, shaking her head. 'I was the same as you - no friends until I came to Hogwarts. Now that I'm here, I'm still the same bossy, annoying, know-it-all girl that no one likes.'

'You shouldn't pay too much attention to whatever that prat Ron said to you.'

'The problem isn't Ron or what he said, Lin. The problem is that he's right. Everyone avoids me. He tried talking to me a few times but I managed to push him away. We may have started out the same, but you're different now; you're doing your best to get what you want.' The bushy haired girl's eyes came alive with tears of their own. 'I'm not brave enough to do that - I don't know what the Sorting Hat was thinking, putting me in Gryffindor. My greatest skill is quoting a book. All that helps with is tests - I can't even make a single friend on my own.'

She started crying; Linnea hastily got off her bed and made her way over to the taller girl, settling down beside her and giving her a comforting hug. She knew what it was like to second-guess and get down on yourself - she had been much the same throughout most of her life. The discovery of being a witch is what had turned around her way of looking at herself. Hermione clearly hadn't been able to find the same kind of turning point. She sobbed into Linnea's shoulder until she was too tired to cry any more. When she was calm enough, Linnea looked straight into her eyes.

'You shouldn't doubt yourself so much, Hermione. You have a lot to offer.'

Hermione laughed at that, which elicited a frown from Linnea. 'Really? Like what?'

'Well, you're really forgiving; I thought you'd never want to speak to me again after what I did to you. But here we are, talking. And you might say things in a…tough way sometimes, but I know that deep down you don't want to just correct people - you want to help them. You just need a little help to get them to understand that better.'

Hermione took large gulps of air in an attempt to get her emotions under control. Linnea didn't let go of her until she felt the other girl push away from her a bit. They stared at each other for a long time before Hermione spoke.

'And how would I do that? Nobody wants anything to do with me.'

'Hey, don't I count as somebody?' Linnea asked in a mock disgruntled voice. 'I know what it's like to live on the fringes, Hermione, and I wouldn't want that for anyone. We may be in different houses, but you are _truly_ my friend - that is, if you'll have me.'

'I'd be an idiot to refuse the Hufflepuff Princess, wouldn't I?' Hermione asked with a hearty chuckle.

'Yes, you would,' Linnea answered playfully. 'But seriously, any time you need anything, all you have to do is ask, okay?'

Hermione nodded happily, taking Lin's hands in her own. 'In that case, could you teach me to be even a little friendly? I honestly want to get along with everyone better.'

'Sure.'

'Thank you.'

'It's what friends are for,' Linnea laughed. 'And while we're on it, why don't we try to figure out who let the troll in and why? We can hardly let them get away with what they put us through.'

'That's true,' Hermione mused. 'They'll have to answer to us.'

They both laughed at that and knew that something between them changed - whether it was for better or for worse, only time could tell.

* * *

It was a peaceful morning; Su walked the halls, reveling in the silence around her. She didn't meet a single soul along the way, and that only made her happier. She always took a walk around the castle before breakfast; she didn't have to worry about the meaningless chatter of her classmates pushing into her thoughts then. She took a detour to the second floor corridor. A sign hung in front of the girls' bathroom. "Out of Order", it read. That made her snort; "Totally Destroyed" would have been more accurate, if the prefects' stories were anything to go by. She had already known that Linnea was powerful, but to hear that she had actually burnt a troll alive - it scared her.

And she had put someone else into the hospital wing as well - the smart Gryffindor girl, whatever her name was. That scared Su even more. Ever since their first Charms class, she had suspected that Linnea had trouble controlling the strength of her spells. Now it had gotten another student almost killed. She hadn't brought up the potential dangers with her because not long after, Linnea had told her about practising dueling with a seventh year girl, introduced to her by Professor Sprout. She was sure that the Head of Hufflepuff knew about Linnea's condition - the timing was just too perfect. And if she knew, Su was willing to bet that the headmaster did as well. She doubted Linnea had realized, though; she probably thought that Professor Sprout had introduced her to the Metamorphmagus as a courtesy.

So the question was whether to tell her or not. Linnea had slowly grown on Su. She had been dealing with snide remarks about her origins and her adoption for the better part of her life, and she did not want to have to deal with that at Hogwarts; but something told her that Linnea wouldn't care. She would probably smile and think nothing of the entire matter. Linnea smiled too much; it unnerved her - and at the same time made her calm, which annoyed Su beyond all possible description. Yet she hadn't been able to broach the subject with who could well be her only friend at the moment; her somewhat cold persona kept her housemates from trying to get close to her. Even Cho Chang, a fellow Chinese girl in her second year, generally kept her distance. She kept coming up with excuses with why she shouldn't tell anyone, not even Linnea, about her family - or lack thereof - but in the end she knew that she was just scared to open herself up. She did not want to give others the power to hurt her again.

She left the second floor corridor behind and headed towards the hospital wing; she should be able to make a short visit.

Su didn't know how many of the staff knew about Linnea's situation, but she could tell that they would not tell her anything, presumably under the headmaster's orders. He almost seemed to be trying to manipulate her somehow. She was surprised that Linnea hadn't noticed as much, seeing as she certainly was not stupid, but Su supposed that it was easier to spot things when you were watching from the sidelines.

_And speaking of people watching from the sidelines…_

'Li,' greeted the brown haired girl, nodding at her.

'Parkinson,' she answered, inclining her head. 'I wasn't aware that there were any Slytherins in the hospital wing.'

'I'm here to look in on Potter,' Parkinson said with a sneer. 'She's a friend.'

'Oh? Do you refer to all of your friends by their surnames?'

They stared at each other frostily for a moment before Parkinson shrugged and turned away from her to knock on the door of the hospital wing. 'It's in a Ravenclaw's nature to think too much, but let me warn you: such people don't live very long in our world - especially if they can't keep their opinions to themselves.'

'I'll keep that in mind. Thank you for the advice, Slytherin.'

'You're welcome, Ravenclaw.'

Madam Pomfrey came to the door on the third knock and let them in. Linnea and the Gryffindor girl were awake and chatting. They stopped and looked more than a little surprised at their visitors.

'I know you aren't popular, Granger, but going to ask a troll out for a date - what were you thinking?' Parkinson sneered; the Gryffindor - Granger - scowled at her. Linnea gave a little placating laugh.

'Pansy, be nice. I'm surprised to see you here - both of you, to be honest.'

'I came to see how you were getting on,' Su said to Linnea.

'That's cold, Ravenclaw,' Parkinson said with a nasty laugh. 'Couldn't care less about Granger, I see.'

'Neither do you,' Granger said with narrowed eyes. 'Just why are you here, Pansy?'

'I came to witness your pain for myself, of course,' Parkinson answered. 'I can see that I'm a little late - you seem well enough.'

'Pansy,' Linnea breathed as Granger let out an angry sound, 'could you try not to be…aggravating so early in the morning? Wait until Hermione has breakfast at least, so she can fight back.'

Parkinson gave a little shrug. 'I must be getting a little sentimental; after all, this is the first time all your friends from the other houses have been this close to each other, Potter. In fact, I don't think people from _all_ the houses have met like this without wanting to kill each other in quite a while. When I think about it that way, I can't help but put my best foot forward.'

'You talk a lot,' Su observed with a cold look.

'I do,' Parkinson confirmed with an evil smile. 'And I look forward to getting _you_ to talk a lot as well, Ravenclaw.'

Linnea obviously didn't like the direction that the conversation was taking, for she hastily said, 'Hermione, why don't we get Madam Pomfrey to give us a check up so that we can get out of here?'

Hermione Granger didn't answer. She was too busy glaring at Parkinson as though she would dearly like to throttle her - just as Su was doing. She was far from cowed, however; she was almost glowing with pleasure.

Su Li did _not_ like Pansy Parkinson. She enjoyed playing with people far too much - she was dangerous.

* * *

Hermione would have gladly given up everything she owned for the chance to curse that smile off Pansy Parkinson's face. Just one curse - was that really too much to ask the universe for?

Lin came back with Madam Pomfrey; she and the girl from Ravenclaw were still glaring at Pansy, and she in turn was still looking like she'd just been declared Minister of Magic. The nurse gave her and Lin the check up and she told them that they could go, but Hermione needed to come back for a few potions to drink. They left the hospital wing together.

They walked in very uncomfortable silence. Hermione didn't even know the Ravenclaw girl's name, but she had struck her as being cold and indifferent - and there was no way that she was about to strike up a conversation with _Pansy_. That left only Lin to speak with. But Hermione imagined how awkward it would be, talking to her as if the other two girls weren't there, so she held her tongue. The Ravenclaw seemed to have thought the same as well, but Pansy looked to be rather enjoying herself; she was still smiling.

'Well,' she said, 'this is great fun. We really should do this more often, girls.'

Lin sighed when she and the Ravenclaw went back to glaring at Pansy. 'Please don't kill each other in front of me,' she said. 'I'd like you all to get along.'

'Highly unlikely,' Hermione said firmly.

'Oh, please, Granger, I don't think you have the luxury of being picky about your friends.'

'Pansy,' Lin said with another sigh, 'I'm going to tell you something I've already told Draco: I want to be your friend, but I won't if you can't respect my other friends - so choose.' After a long silence from Pansy, Lin said, 'Thank you. Would you be willing to apologize to Hermione?'

Hermione was shocked to see Pansy's smile widen slightly. She looked right at her and said, in what could have been a sweet voice, 'So sorry, Granger, I didn't mean to hurt your feelings.'

'That's alright,' Hermione responded doubtfully. She knew Pansy was anything but sorry, and so had been convinced that Lin had been crazy to ask her to apologize - yet she had. She didn't know what game the Slytherin was playing, but so far, she didn't like it one bit.

'What we need,' Lin said in a voice of cheerful determination, 'is something for us to bond over - something for us to do together.'

'I doubt we all have the same interests, Linnea,' the Ravenclaw girl said, giving Pansy another look.

'Yes, but that doesn't mean that there isn't _anything_ we can do together,' Lin said firmly. When they reached the doors to the Great Hall, she turned to look at them and said, 'Why don't you join me at the Hufflepuff table? There's someone I'd like to meet you all.'

This pronouncement was met with even more silence. Then, to her surprise, the Ravenclaw shrugged and said, 'I suppose it couldn't hurt to meet new people.'

'Well, if _she's_ going then I am to,' Pansy said with a wicked smile.

Hermione's heart dropped when Lin looked at her hopefully. Somehow, she couldn't refuse her. 'Yes, why not?'

Lin smiled and led them towards the Hufflepuffs; more than a few stares were sent their way and Hermione couldn't help but wonder what Lin was up to.

'Lin!' A cheery-looking, dark-haired girl was beaming in their direction. 'I was going to come get you after breakfast. How are you -?

She fell silent when she noticed Lin's company, but her mouth stayed open in surprise. She wasn't the only one; her fellow Hufflepuffs were staring at them like they were some strange new creatures.

'Leanne, I'd like to introduce you to some people: this is Hermione Granger from Gryffindor, Su Li from Ravenclaw and Pansy Parkinson from Slytherin. Everyone, this is Leanne Taylor. I wanted them to have breakfast with us. Is that okay, Leanne?'

'Er, sure,' Leanne said, clearly uncomfortable. She goggled at them as they took their seats. Out of the corner of her eye, Hermione could see the entire table openly staring - some where whispering to each other about this new phenomenon.

'I thought,' Lin said, 'that it would be a really long time before I dared to get you guys anywhere near each other, so you can imagine how surprised I really was when Su and Pansy showed up in the hospital wing - together.'

'We just met at the door, Linnea,' the girl named Su said quietly.

'But you still came in together. That told me that maybe I was a little too worried over nothing.'

'And why,' Leanne said slowly, 'did you want to get us together?'

'I think we can become friends,' Lin said brightly. 'I think we can help each other out here at Hogwarts. I like you all and I want to get to know you all better, but that could hardly work if you couldn't stand the sight of each other. So I'd like to see if you would all be interested in getting to know one another and form some kind of…study group or something.'

'And you specifically wanted people from the other houses for this?' Leanne asked.

'Honestly? Yes,' Lin replied without a hint of embarrassment. 'I think it's a shame that the houses are always at each other's throats, rather than working together for the good of the school.'

'So you just want to prove that the houses can work together?' Hermione asked with a deep frown. It didn't sound very flattering to her.

'No,' Lin said quickly. 'I've gotten to know all of you - some more than others, I'll admit - and I honestly think that you would all get along with each other if you gave it a try.'

'Even the Slytherin?' Pansy asked with a sneer.

'Yes, even you, Pansy. I like all of you, and I didn't want to stop being friends with you over a silly thing like which houses we belong to. That's the main reason why I wanted to introduce you all to each other.'

There was a pause, and then Hermione said, 'Suppose we do try to get along, on the basis that we all have you in common…you said that you wanted us to do something together. What exactly?'

'Well,' said Lin with a glance in her direction, 'I thought we could all try to figure out who it was that let the troll in last night and expose them.'

Leanne, Su and Pansy looked surprised, but deeply interested.

'That does sound like fun,' Leanne said, a gleam in her eye. 'It beats homework, anyway. Count me in.'

Hermione glared at the girl. _More important than homework, is she joking? What could be more important than knowledge? Well, I suppose that we _would_ be searching for knowledge, just a different kind. But can I really work with these people? No, I shouldn't think like that…Lin said she would help me get along with everyone better - I suppose everyone does include her other friends._

Feeling distinctly like she was jumping into a hole that she wouldn't be able to climb out of, Hermione said, 'I'd like to help too.'

'You lot are much more enjoyable to talk to than my housemates,' Pansy said with another nasty smile. 'And this could lead to acquiring very…_interesting_ information.'

Su Li stayed silent for a long time before she nodded.

Lin looked like she'd been informed that her birthday would be celebrated every day for the rest of the year. She beamed as Hermione had never seen her beam before - and that was saying a lot.

'Brilliant! Thanks for taking this chance with me, all of you. I really do want to get to know you all better.'

'Well then, why don't we all introduce ourselves?' Pansy said snidely. 'I'll go first: I'm Pansy and proud to be in Slytherin, so don't be surprised or offended if I say some particularly nasty things to you - it's just my nature.'

Hermione scowled at her along with Su and Leanne. Lin sighed.

'Well, it may take a while before you start getting along,' she mumbled.

* * *

Leanne could hardly believe what she was agreeing to - and the fact that she had actually agreed. What Lin had proposed was insane - and a little intriguing, if she could be honest with herself. Everyone at Hogwarts agreed that someone had let the troll in, but no one had been caught yet. Trying to figure out who it was would certainly make for an interesting pastime. But to do it with these other girls…could Lin's little plot actually work? _Could_ students from the four houses be more than rivals?

She didn't know, but she was willing to find out. She couldn't explain why, but the whole thing thrilled her - though she definitely had not liked the Slytherin and the look that Hermione Granger had given her. But she could tolerate them, at least for Lin's sake; she could tell that her friend was fond of all of them - even Parkinson, as hard as it was to believe. She wanted them to get along with each other so she wouldn't have to choose later. Leanne had to admire the value that Lin placed on each of her friends.

She wasn't stupid, though; Leanne could tell that all those girls had some reason for accepting Lin's proposal - why else would they all have agreed to it at once? Hermione Granger was simple enough to understand, given all that Lin had told her; she was lonely and lacked a lot in the way of socializing skills. Given that Lin herself was quickly becoming the most popular student at Hogwarts, it wasn't surprising that Granger would be naturally drawn to her. The same could be said of Su Li, but Leanne didn't get the feeling that she wanted friends when she was around her; rather, she seemed to be fascinated with Lin herself for some reason. As for Parkinson, she had absolutely no idea, but it couldn't be anything good.

Leanne herself had accepted mainly to watch Lin's back. She didn't trust the others, not even Granger; she knew from experience that girls could be extremely fickle, capable of turning their claws on a friend at the slightest opportunity. She wouldn't leave Lin to fend for herself. She would be there for her…

'You're thinking very hard, Leanne.'

She snapped out of the confines of her mind and looked around; Lin was giving her a knowing smile.

'Worried about my little stunt back in the Great Hall?' she asked. Leanne knew that she didn't have to answer. 'You think I'm nutters, don't you?'

'Yes, I do.' She answered this time with a little snort. 'But you've been doing some pretty amazing things ever since you got here, so I trust that you know what you're doing.'

'But you don't trust the other girls, do you?' Lin asked shrewdly.

'No, I don't. I won't leave you to deal with them by yourself. They could hurt you, especially that Parkinson.'

Lin sighed. She sounded very tired as she said, 'Don't let the house thing affect what you see in them, Leanne; they are great people. I'll admit that Pansy does make me nervous, and I'm more than certain that she has some ulterior motive for joining us, but I think that she can be kind and loyal when she really tries. You've seen the way she looks after her friend Daphne, right?'

Leanne nodded. It was true, Parkinson certainly did stick up for the tiny Slytherin - for all the Slytherins, in fact.

'Let's just be careful with them, okay? It would make me feel better.'

'Sure,' Lin answered with a smile. 'But you have to promise me that you _will_ make an effort to get to know them, okay?'

Leanne looked back at her friend; she had her pinned and she knew it. 'Okay,' she said grudgingly. 'I'll get a little time in the spotlight, at least,' she added brightly. 'People will be talking about us for weeks!'

The girls smiled at each other and hurried off to Potions when the warning bell sounded.

_It could definitely turn out to be fun_, Leanne thought happily as they entered the room and she caught Pansy Parkinson's eye. _None of us like each other, but Lin will be the one keeping us together. She's crazy - but a _good _kind of crazy. This might just work_.

She smiled blandly into Professor Snape's face, losing their house five points. She didn't much care; interesting times were ahead for her and Lin, and that was all that mattered.


	8. Bittersweet Christmas

For the weeks that followed, the five girls spent as much free time with each other as possible. It was as fun an experience as Linnea had hoped; the girls were all peculiar in their own way, especially Pansy, who provided as much antagonism within the group as she could possibly could without crossing the unsaid line that they all seem to have set.

As they had agreed, they had been trying to zero in on whoever it was that had let the troll in on Halloween. Su, Leanne and Pansy agreed with Hermione's theory on it being a staff member, and were therefore looking to thin their list of suspects. They immediately eliminated Dumbledore - the idea of the headmaster letting a troll into his school at the risk of a student getting hurt was ridiculous - Madam Pomfrey - for the same reason as Dumbledore - and the caretaker, Filch - not being able to do magic, it was highly doubtful that the Squib would have been able to maneuver the troll from the dungeons to the second floor corridor. Other than that, they had not been able to cross anyone else off - but they did have a short list of most likely candidates.

Professor Quirrell was at the top of the list. He was the one who had burst into the Great Hall announcing to everyone that there was a troll loose in the castle - meaning that he had not been present for the Halloween feast and therefore had no alibi as far as they knew. Linnea had also told her friends about the pain she had experienced in her scar when had shaken Professor Quirrell's in Diagon Alley. Only Leanne took it very seriously, however, mostly because Linnea had never felt anything of the like ever since - and as Hermione said, it was likely that a scar caused by magic would have some side effects such as occasional pain.

Second on the list was Hagrid. Linnea had been very upset when his name had jumped up in the list. There was no way that Hagrid would endanger everyone in the castle - so she kept saying to the other girls. But Pansy reminded her that while she had a personal relationship with Hagrid, none of them did, meaning Linnea couldn't exactly be objective about him like they could. While it pained her to admit it, Hagrid's well-known knowledge in dealing with magical creatures of almost every conceivable kind would fit right at home on their theory of the culprit being someone who could have guided the troll up to the castle's main floors. And so second on the list Hagrid was.

They hadn't been able to come up with any new information, and so had spent most of their time together in the library doing their homework. Linnea enjoyed working with them, but the girls would often argue amongst themselves. The fights were usually started by Pansy, at which Leanne and Hermione would immediately jump in; Su tried to stay out of the bickering as much as she could, but would occasionally also end up fighting with the others. However, Linnea suspected that they did it for fun at this point; it had been seven weeks since they had started their little group, after all. She couldn't imagine that they hadn't found a way to deal with each other's presence in all that time.

The castle was rather chilly as Christmas approached. A single draft of wind was enough to get the students' teeth chattering, despite the fires that now burned along every corridor. Malcolm, the Hufflepuff Quidditch Captain, had been kind enough to show her a simple warming charm that could be placed on clothing, and she had shown the spell to the other girls to place upon their winter cloaks so that they could at least have some semblance of warmth. Following their victory over Gryffindor, Tamsin Applebee had been placed on reserve, while Linnea would be a starting Chaser for all the matches to come. He was a good sport about it and didn't complain, saying that it was for the good of the house. Two more matches had been played since then: Gryffindor defeated Ravenclaw in the second match of the season and Slytherin beat Gryffindor in the third. The next match, Hufflepuff versus Ravenclaw, would take place some time next year; with no victories under their belt yet, the Raveclaws were determined to do all that they could to win and improve their placement for the House Cup. Hufflepuff was still first with Slytherin a close second and Gryffindor and Ravenclaw were tied behind them.

The first day of the week leading up to Christmas Day found Linnea and Su spending an afternoon in the library, doing an essay for Professor Flitwick on the most basic Fire Charm - _Incendio_ - and how the caster could modify it to produce different forms of fire - as Linnea had done on Halloween. Having already gone through the material, it wasn't a difficult assignment and before long they were done.

'Well, that's that,' said Linnea, putting her quill and books away. 'Having this free week is really brilliant - we get to finish all the homework that the teachers throw at us before the holidays begin.'

Su nodded, also putting her things away. The girl had been deathly quiet - even for her - and Linnea was starting to get a little worried.

'I'm feeling a little thirsty. Shall we go down to the kitchens and see if we can get a snack or something?'

Su began to nod then abruptly shook her head.

'No,' she said, 'I need to talk to you about something.'

'You've been very quiet today. Are you all right?'

'I'm fine. But I don't think you are - that's what I want to tell you.'

'What do you mean?' Linnea was frowning now, wondering why Su seemed to be hesitant to discuss what she wanted to; she certainly never had been before. It made her nervous and she realized that it must be serious.

'Do you remember in Friday's Charms class how big your flame from the Fire Charm was?'

'Yes. I was a little alarmed, to be honest; I didn't mean to make it so big.'

'That's what I wanted to talk to you about.' Su took a very deep breath and continued, 'Linnea, have you noticed that your spells fluctuate in power?'

'Well, yeah,' Linnea answered. 'It's been happening for as long as I've been casting spells. Why?'

'It isn't normal,' Su said in a hushed whisper. Linnea frowned again. 'Usually, a spell's power is set with the wizard casting it, and only increases when the wizard practises that spell. You're the only one I've seen or heard of whose power fluctuates - I've been asking around, and it hasn't happened to anyone I've talked to.'

'I'm sure _someone_ here has experienced it as well. It isn't convenient, I'll admit, but I'm sure I'll grow out of it if I practise spellcasting enough.'

'So am I. But it's still happening even now. I'm afraid someone else will get hurt.'

'What do you mean?' Linnea asked again; she knew that her eyes had to be the size of a Quaffle right now, as Su's last statement had totally surprised her.

'Don't you remember? You cut through the troll with a Severing Charm on Halloween -'

'And hurt Hermione in the process,' Linnea interrupted sulkily; she still felt guilty about it. 'I remember - but what of it?'

'Don't you see? Your spells were fluctuating again that night; you used enough power to cut _through_ the troll, and the spell also got Hermione. For a first year, it should have just slashed the troll.'

'So you think that these fluctuations could be dangerous?' Linnea asked.

'Of course they are,' Su said, a hint of exasperated impatience in her voice. 'Hermione could have possibly died and you could have done some serious damage with that Fire Charm - it's supposed to make a handful of flames, but yours was at least three.'

'But like you said, if I keep practising then I should be able to put some reins on it.' Linnea spoke calmly, but inside she was beginning to panic. She didn't know how she had missed what Su was now telling her. She had been getting used to the fluctuations, but had not realized that they were the reason that Hermione now had a faint scar across her chest. And as she had pointed out, they were still plaguing her, though not as often as before. But she had to agree with the Ravenclaw - her spellcasting was currently dangerous.

'Well, that's why Professor Sprout has you practising with Tonks, isn't it?'

'What? You think Professor Sprout knows about this?'

'Of course she does,' said Su. 'Why else would she introduce a seventh year preparing for their final exams to a first year and teach her how to duel? She must also think that you need to practise to learn control. Until then, maybe you should be a little careful when casting spells - it could turn into a great mess. I've been guessing about this for a while, but I didn't say anything because I thought you'd be able to get a handle on things soon. Friday's lesson proved me wrong.'

Linnea let Su's words wash over her. It made a vast amount of sense. But that would mean…

'I'm dangerous.' She whispered the words, but Su caught them nonetheless.

'No, don't do that to yourself,' the Ravenclaw said firmly. 'I know it's scary, but don't you dare start blaming yourself for something you didn't choose. I told you so you could know and do something about it.'

She looked into the Chinese girl's eyes, which were hard and narrowed, telling her silently that she would pay dearly if she even thought of sulking. In spite of herself, she smiled.

'Thanks for telling me, Su. I promise I'll work on it.'

'Good,' Su said, nodding with approval. 'One more thing: if Professor Sprout knows, then I'm sure Professor Dumbledore does as well. They must have their reasons for not telling you, but I think you should talk to Professor Sprout about it. She loves you - I'm sure she could help you along if she can.'

Linnea smiled in agreement at Su's advice. The thought that her mere presence could be a danger to her friends was unacceptable. She needed to deal with this problem, and the first step towards that was finding out exactly what was wrong with her.

'I might as well go and see her now, then.' She picked up her book bag again and when Su said that she would be staying a little longer, left her friend and made her way through the castle and out onto the grounds towards the Herbology greenhouses. It was snowing lightly and the ground was already completely covered white. The warming charm on her cloak thankfully kept her from freezing to death and she reached the smallest greenhouse, which was where Professor Sprout's office was located, without incident.

'Ah, Miss Potter,' she said, spotting Linnea through the transparent door. 'Come in - get out of this dreadful cold. Is there something you need?'

'Yes, Professor,' Linnea answered, brushing snow off her person before stepping into the greenhouse; it was so warm that she had to take her cloak off. 'I need to speak to you about something, Professor.'

'Oh? What might that be?'

'Me.'

The Head of Hufflepuff now wore a worried frown on her face. She gestured at Linnea to take a seat on one of the stools and stepped closer to her. 'What is it that's troubling you dear?' she asked.

'It's something that I've been aware of for quite a while, but only recently has a friend made me aware of the implications and possible dangers. They also guess that you know about it as well - my magic fluctuations.'

At the Professor's surprised expression, Linnea immediately knew that Su had been correct: Professor Sprout, and by extension Professor Dumbledore, knew about the fluctuations - but who else knew? And why hadn't they talked to her about them?

'I've gotten used to dealing with them in my time here, but my friend pointed out to me that my casting spells could be dangerous if I can't control their power,' Linnea explained. 'They seem to think that the more I cast spells the more I'll be able to handle things and I'm inclined to agree; my spells don't fluctuate as often as they used to. But I need to learn how to stop them once and for all. I don't want to hurt anyone.'

Professor Sprout stared at her silently for a long time, as though trying to decide whether or not she should say anything. Linnea took this to mean that the headmaster had told her not to speak about the matter with her, though she couldn't imagine why. Just as she was beginning to think that coming down to the greenhouse had been a waste of time, the Herbology Professor spoke.

'Well, I must applaud your friend for having such insight as to notice your condition and tell you about it. Yes, you do have a problem with controlling the power of your spells and it certainly is dangerous; I believe that it must have happened to you on Halloween, which as you may have guessed caused Miss Granger's visit to the hospital wing.'

'Why didn't Professor Dumbledore want you talking to me about it?'

'The headmaster?' Professor Sprout was now looking at her with narrowed eyes.

'If you know about me and think that this condition could be dangerous to the other students then it's safe to assume that Professor Dumbledore would be aware of it as well,' Linnea explained with a shrug.

Professor Sprout stared at Linnea some more; the girl seemed calm - at complete odds with what she had imagined her to be if she ever deduced that she could hurt her friends just by being around them. She could see the determination in her grey eyes and realized that she desperately wanted to overcome this obstacle. She sighed.

'Right again, Miss Potter. Well, we didn't tell you anything in fear of how you would react. I can see now that we were foolish to do so.'

'When you say "we", do you mean you and Professor Dumbledore, or are there others who know?'

'There are others,' Professor Sprout said slowly, 'but I won't be telling you who. We were to keep a close eye on you to make sure that you didn't unintentionally harm anyone. Obviously, we failed - but you mustn't blame yourself for that, Miss Potter.'

'So I've been told more than once,' said Linnea. 'I just want to fix it. This is why you introduced me to Tonks, isn't it?'

'Yes, it is. Practising your spellcasting is the only way that you can remedy this problem, but we needed you to practise with someone who you would have little chance of hurting. And so I introduced you to Miss Tonks.'

Linnea frowned. 'I don't understand why you wouldn't just tell me; surely I could be further along than I am now if I had been aware of what I was working towards - I could have even worked with one of the Professors on it.'

'I know.' Professor Sprout spoke in a soft voice, presumably to placate the now irate first year. 'I had the same concerns about the issue. However, Professor Dumbledore is the headmaster and in the end we teachers must respect his decisions.'

'Well, I don't think much of his decision-making abilities at the moment.'

Professor Sprout was more than a little surprised to hear the venom in the girl's voice. _Perhaps Albus was right after all_, she thought.

'Linnea,' she said, 'I would like you to please not hold this against Professor Dumbledore. You must understand that whatever decision he makes is in the best interest of the school and its students. I agree with you - it may have been more beneficial to let you know about your condition. Complaining about what could have been won't help you now, though.'

Linnea gave a small sigh and nodded. Inwardly, she was very upset at being left to carry on as though nothing were amiss, when she had been in danger of possibly taking someone's eyes out the entire time. But Professor Sprout was right - she couldn't dwell on that now.

'Tonks is going to be very busy with her final exams before long,' she said. 'I think I'll need someone else to practise with me.'

Professor Sprout nodded and said, 'I will have a word with Professor McGonagall and see if she would be willing to help you. As a master of Transfiguration, she has a great deal of experience in cultivating willpower and intent, which I think would do you quite a bit of good towards solving the issue. Unless you would prefer someone else?'

Linnea shook her head; she rather liked Professor McGonagall, and also thought that she would be able to lend her a great deal of help in this.

'Alright, I'll let you know what she says. You should go back up to the castle - it wouldn't do for you to stay out too late and catch a cold right before the Chrimstas holidays.'

Linnea thanked the Professor and left.

_Albus isn't going to like this very much_, Professor Sprout thought with a sigh.

* * *

A memo had been put up in each house's common room, stating that students who wished to remain at Hogwarts should put their names down on it. Linnea instantly signed herself up; she knew that there would be very few people at the castle over the holidays, but as the alternative was going back to the Dursleys, she wasn't too bothered by it. That is, until she saw that no one added their name after her own - she was the only Hufflepuff who would be staying for Christmas.

'Don't let it get to you too much,' Leanne said in an effort to cheer her friend up. 'You'll have this entire place to yourself. Just imagine what you could get up to!'

Linnea gave a smile that felt to her as fake as Professor Quirrell's stutter. She never said it out loud to any of her friends, but she was a little scared to be alone. It reminded her of the years she had spent in fear and captivity with the Dursleys, when happiness had only been a concept, rather than a feeling. She wanted more than anything to forget about all the bad things she had experienced, and she knew that being alone would only awaken bad memories. She had no doubt that this would be her best Christmas yet, but she also knew that it wouldn't be all smiles either.

Not that she hadn't received offers to spend the holidays elsewhere - two offers to be precise. Draco had asked her the same day that the notice had gone up, and she had politely declined, saying that she wouldn't want to intrude on his family when she hadn't met them yet. He told her that the offer stood until the students left for home. The second was the one that stood out to her.

'_H - Hi, Lin,' Ron Weasley said nervously. 'I was wondering if I could have a word.'_

_Linnea agreed after a long moment of surprise and went with him a little distance away from Pansy and Hermione, who had been trading veiled insults again._

'_I wanted to say I'm sorry about what happened on Halloween,' Ron said hoarsely._

'_I appreciate that Ron, but have you apologized to Hermione? She's the one you hurt.' When the redheaded boy blanched, Linnea sighed, took his arm and dragged him back towards her friends. 'Hermione, Ron has something that he would like to tell you.'_

'_Yes?' Hermione's voice was the very definition of cold, and Ron visibly shivered._

'_I - I wanted to apologize about the things I said to you on Halloween. I was being a prat -'_

'_I think you were being much more than that,' Hermione snapped._

I knew she wasn't going to make this easy. Well, he does deserve it_, Linnea thought._

'_Yeah, you're right,' Ron agreed with a gulp. 'I'm really sorry.'_

'_It's fine,' Hermione said with a shrug. 'I realized soon after that everything that comes out of your mouth is garbage at best, so I'm hardly bothered any more.'_

_Pansy raised her eyebrows and said, 'I think you've been hanging around me too much, Granger.'_

'_Yes, you're right. Please go away.'_

_And with that they started arguing again. Linnea sighed and turned back to Ron, who was still looking a little scared._

'_It seems she accepted your apology,' she said. 'I will too. I know I said that I didn't want you talking to me again, but I'm glad that you came to make amends.'_

'_Er, well I heard that you were staying at Hogwarts for Christmas and - and wanted to ask if maybe you'd like to spend the holidays at my house.'_

The invitation had confused her to say the least. She could understand Draco, but she couldn't put a finger on what Ron had to have been thinking to invite her to his house when they had not spoken once to each other since Halloween. She had declined, of course, but it mystified her to no end.

And so Linnea woke up on Christmas Day to be met by total silence. She sighed and pulled the hangings of her four-poster bed apart to find possibly the most shocking thing that she had yet seen within the castle: a pile of presents at the foot of her bed. She stared at them for a long time, convinced that she must be seeing things, before she poked them with her toe and found them to be real. Excitement reared up inside her and she took the nearest parcel and tore it open, not even bothering to see who it was from.

It was a leather-bound diary with a small magical lock set into it; her name was already spelled out in ornate gold letters on the cover. She took the small note that had fallen out when she ripped the packaging apart and read:

_ To Linnea,_

_ You have a lot to think about. Writing might help._

_ Su._

Linnea smiled and her heart went out to her quiet Ravenclaw friend. She set the diary aside and turned to open the rest of her presents. Hermione had gotten her a copy of _Understanding Potion Brewing_, a supplementary guide to their textbooks, Leanne had sent her perfume and Pansy an ornate, multicolored brooch shaped like a butterfly for her cloaks and robes; she was surprised to get a gift from the Slytherin girl even though she had sent her one as well. She wondered if the girls had bought anything for each other as well.

Draco had once again sent her something: a silver bracelet with a small emerald set into the band. She felt a little guilty about keeping the boy at a distance - and not thinking of getting him anything - as she stared at it and resolved to get a little closer to him. He might indeed be trying to befriend her on his father's orders, but he couldn't be too bad…

Ron had sent her something as well - or rather, his mother had, again to her great surprise. It was the largest package of all, containing a warm grey sweater with a large "L" on the front and a lot of homemade snacks and sweets. The note inside was from Mrs. Weasley, and said that she hoped that Linnea didn't mind her sending her something when Ron mentioned that she would be mostly alone over the holidays. She made a mental note to send a reply to Mrs. Weasley.

This left only one parcel, which was extremely light to the touch; she opened it and out fell a silvery grey cloak. It looked to be made of silk or something similar. Linnea put it on and went over to the mirror to see how it looked.

She almost fainted.

There was her head, exactly where it was supposed to be - but her body was gone. She prodded herself in the stomach to make sure that the rest of her still existed and when she had it confirmed, she reasoned that she must be invisible; she took the cloak off and sure enough, her body reappeared. She stared at the cloth in awe, wondering what it was - and who had sent it to her. She looked around and spotted a note lying on the ground. She picked it up; it was written in narrow, loopy handwriting that she didn't recognize.

_ Linnea,_

_ This is an Invisibility Cloak. This particular one belonged to your father - he left it in my possession shortly before he died. It belongs to you now. Use it well._

_ Merry Christmas._

The note did nothing to tell her who had sent her the Cloak, but for a moment she honestly didn't care; this had been her _father's_. She had had nothing left of her parents - until now. She could feel tears well unbidden in her eyes. The words "My father's" kept playing over and over in her head as she sat and stared at what was now the most valuable thing she owned. She stayed like that for a long time until she felt something furry on her hand and heard a soft meow; Abell was trying to get her ears scratched. Linnea complied and petted the cat, and she purred contentedly. A pang of hunger five minutes later told her that she should get down to the Great Hall and experience her first ever Christmas breakfast.

* * *

Linnea Potter entered the Great Hall with a faraway look on her face, no doubt thinking about the Invisibility Cloak that he had sent her. He sincerely hoped that she would not abuse it.

He was once again nervous about the girl; Pomona had told him that she had come to be aware of her condition and that the headmaster had been watching her closely. She was not pleased. From what Pomona had said, he was sure that Miss Potter would become guarded against him. He had sent the Cloak to her at precisely this time so that he could hopefully get more insight into her personality and frame of mind - and maybe somehow gain her trust. He needed her to at least not hate him.

Although Albus had hoped that Linnea would be sorted into Gryffindor, she was thriving exceptionally well in Hufflepuff - there was no question concerning her abilities. Her loyalties, however, were still up in the air. Noble a house though Hufflepuff may be, even they had not escaped the taint of the Dark Arts, though they had felt it the least. He had encouraged Ronald Weasley, through his mother, to befriend Linnea for three reasons: to skew her towards Gryffindor house - a failure - to keep her on the right side and to give the poor girl a friend. They had been distant, however, since the events of Halloween, and she had evidently declined Ronald's invitation to the Weasley household.

He watched as she took a seat at the table with himself, the rest of the staff and other four students who were staying at Hogwarts for Christmas. The look on her face told her that she was happy to spend the holidays away from her Muggle relatives, but she was also missing her friends. From what he had been able to observe, it was clear that she feared being alone again.

He was beginning to think that Linnea Potter might not be as typically easy to - for lack of a better word - manipulate as other girls her age. She always seemed to deviate from whatever it was he wished to happen. When he had wanted her in Gryffindor, she had ended up in Hufflepuff. When he had wanted her to be oblivious of himself and the teachers watching her, she had found out. When he had wanted her to work on her unstable magical essence without her knowledge…

Yes, Linnea Potter was turning out to be a vexing individual. But that wasn't necessarily a bad thing. Albus did not fool himself into thinking that he had all the answers - he knew that he could make mistakes just like any other man. Perhaps he was mistaken in the way he dealt with Linnea Potter. Maybe he should take, as Minerva had called it, the _direct_ route.

It was too early to tell what he should do. He would wait to see if she would use the Cloak - and if she did, to what end. He was convinced that that would answer some of his questions.

* * *

No matter how much she twisted and turned, Linnea could not fall asleep; the silence and knowledge that she was totally alone unnerved and scared her. She had a phial of Sleeping Draught in her trunk, but she was determined not to have to use it. There were two weeks left of the Christmas holidays; she couldn't take a Sleeping Draught every night for that long due to the side effects. Therefore, she had no other choice than to get comfortable enough to fall asleep within the largely empty castle.

It was proving very difficult. She had been in bed at least half an hour, and her eyes remained firmly open. She sighed and threw the covers off herself; she may as well do something to get her a little calmer. Her thoughts strayed to her father's Invisibility Cloak. School rules still applied during the Christmas holidays and it was well past curfew - the Cloak, however, would lower the chances of discovery if she were to take it with her on a short walk around the castle. Making up her mind, she put on a light robe over her dressing gown, took out the Cloak and her wand and made her way through and out of the Hufflepuff common room.

She draped the soft fabric over her head as soon as she stepped out into the stone corridor beyond. She decided to go to the Trophy Room, which was a decent distance for a walk and not too far away. She tread lightly, not wishing to alarm anyone she might run into with the sound of invisible footsteps. The cold night air, rather than making her uncomfortable, soothed her skin, and she breathed it in with an appreciative smile. This had been a good idea. The loneliness while she had been closeted in the dormitory had been nothing short of stifling; now that she was moving, she could appreciate the peace that permeated the castle in its silence, as well as the serenity of the halls bathed in moonlight that filtered through the high windows.

She was a few turns and a staircase away from the corridor that led to the Trophy Room when she heard scuffling ahead of her; she stopped and strained her ears to listen to the voices that were now speaking.

'You don't want me as your enemy, Quirrell.' That was definitely Professor Snape.

'I - I'm n - not sure what you mean, Severus,' Professor Quirrell stuttered as Linnea crept forward and around the corner to see the Potions Master holding the younger man by the neck of his robes against the wall.

'You know perfectly well what I mean,' Professor Snape snapped, his eyes going darker and glaring at Professor Quirrell. 'You mean to steal it, don't you?'

'W - What? S - Severus, I would never -'

'I know about Gringotts, Quirrell,' Professor Snape interrupted. 'Hagrid saw you in the Leaky Cauldron the day the bank was broken into. You may have everyone else fooled with your little stutter, but not me.' For effect, Professor Snape shook the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, who whimpered. 'It was quite the brilliant scheme, letting that troll in on Halloween to provide a distraction for you. It's a shame that Potter dealt with it as quickly as she did; I'd wager you didn't have enough time to get too good a look at the protection surrounding the Stone.'

'S - Severus, how c - could you think that _I_ would -'

'I just told you that you do not want to make an enemy of me,' Professor Snape said in a deadly quiet voice. 'Lying is a good way of ensuring that I am. We will have another chat soon, Quirrell, when you have had time to decide to whom your loyalties belong.'

With that, Professor Snape turned from Professor Quirrell and strode away, his black robes flapping behind him as they always did; Linnea stepped back as hastily as she could without making a sound to avoid him. Once he had left, she watched Professor Quirrell, whose face was devoid of any of the fear that had been present not so long ago. He was looking after Professor Snape with a look of revulsion and hatred. After what seemed an eternity, he turned and headed off in the opposite direction.

Linnea felt a door against her back and opened it to find herself in an unused classroom. She threw the Cloak off herself and sat on a nearby desk, thinking about what she had just witnessed.

It seemed that Professor Snape suspected Professor Quirrell as well - no, he more than suspected, he _knew_ that the turban-clad man was up to something. But what exactly? It sounded like he was trying to steal something - some kind of stone. If he had indeed let that troll in so that he could see what it was that was protecting what he wanted, then it was safe to assume that the object was currently at Hogwarts. But what was this about a break-in at Gringotts? She cursed her aversion to reading the newspaper, _The Daily Prophet_; if it was common knowledge, then it surely would have been reported there. Professor Snape had made it sound like it was Professor Quirrell who had broken into the Wizarding Bank, on the basis that he had been there on the same day…

Her eyes widened as realization crashed into her with the force of a Bludger. 'The day that I was there with Hagrid! Professor Snape said that Hagrid was the one who saw Professor Quirrell in the Leaky Cauldron - it must have been then!' She didn't even notice that she was whispering to herself.

Professor Quirrell had tried to steal something from Gringotts Wizarding Bank, but had failed; he was clearly still searching for it. Hagrid had emptied another vault of a tiny package when she had gone down to her own vault with him; she was willing to bet that that was what Professor Quirrell wanted. Its size, at least, would make it possible to be some kind of stone. She couldn't imagine that it was just an ordinary rock or some jewel, however; it must be something very special. She ran her mind through all she had learned at Hogwarts so far but nothing stood out to her.

Linnea smiled and congratulated herself for staying at Hogwarts and falling victim to insomnia; she had learned some very interesting things thanks to her walk. She silently blessed whoever it was that had sent her the Invisibility Cloak and got off the desk to leave the dusty classroom. She stopped, however, when she caught sight of something out of the corner of her eye.

A mirror. It was rather magnificent, standing as high as the ceiling on two clawed feet curved into the ornate gold frame. There was an inscription at the top, but she couldn't read it; they were runes of some kind. She stepped towards it, wondering why someone would leave something so handsome in such a dusty and forgotten room.

She gasped and turned around, eyes wide; there were people reflected behind her in the mirror. But there was no one else in the room. She looked back in the mirror and stared at the man and woman who were seemingly at her shoulder; she stretched her arm back and felt only air. These people weren't real. They were just some illusion created by the mirror. They were smiling at her, pure joy written on their faces. She couldn't recognize them at first, but looked closer when tears began running down the woman's cheeks. She gasped again.

The man had a thin face, angled much like hers was, and the woman had the same nose and body frame as hers. Her hair was red as well, but shades lighter than her own - and flowing, rather than messy as Linnea and the man's own locks were. Linnea was convinced, in that moment, that she was staring at her parents.

At the look of awed comprehension on her face, the reflections' smiles widened. She stared at them and tried to say something, but her voice seemed to have vanished. She sniffed as tears fell out of her eyes as well, not even bothering to brush them away. She looked and looked, and couldn't get enough. For her, nothing existed in the world except for this miraculous mirror. She sat down onto the stone floor, even though she was unaware that she was actually still able to move.

She had no idea how long she had stayed looking into the mirror before she heard footsteps behind her. On any other night, she may have been alarmed, but with the image of her parents before her, she didn't even bother turning her head.

'Linnea.'

The voice was old, but somehow comforting; she knew at once who it was behind her.

'Good evening, Professor Dumbledore,' she said in a hollow voice.

'Good evening, my dear girl - though I think you will agree that it is well past time for such a greeting.' He said this in a soft voice, which Linnea took to mean that he wasn't telling her to get out. To her great surprise, he sat down next to her. There was a long pause before he asked, 'What is it that you see?'

'My parents,' Linnea answered, desperately fighting back the sobs that hitched in her throat.

'Ah, of course,' Professor Dumbledore said, nodding sagely. 'This must be quite the bittersweet moment for you.'

Linnea nodded, not taking her eyes off her parents, who likewise did not acknowledge the headmaster's presence. Now that he was here, however, she was able to think more clearly.

'Professor, what is this mirror?'

'This is the Mirror of Erised, Linnea,' Professor Dumbledore said. 'It is a mirror that shows us that which we most desperately desire in our hearts.'

'I - I've always wanted a family that cared for me, but n - now that I can finally see my parents, I realize j - just how badly I really wished for one.' The tears spilled hot and fast down her face, and she could no longer control her sobs. 'But it'll never happen, will it? M - My parents are - are dead - I have no one.'

Professor Dumbledore didn't say anything and let the young Hufflepuff cry her pain away. After what felt like a millenium, she began to calm back down, and he handed her a handkerchief, which she gratefully accepted.

'Linnea, I'm sorry for the misfortunes that have befallen you,' he said softly, doing his best not to look into the mirror himself. 'I am afraid that such sorrows will force you to grow up far too fast. But you are wrong - you are not alone; you have friends who care for you here at Hogwarts.'

Linnea sniffed and looked at Professor Dumbledore for the first time. 'This mirror - I - I don't like it very much. I'm happy to see my parents, but at the same time, it makes me unbelievably sad.'

'Yes, that is the greatest danger of the Mirror of Erised,' said Professor Dumbledore. 'One may look into the mirror and see their greatest desire as clear as day, but it will never show them how to achieve it - or whether it is even possible. This mirror has entranced many into staring at it for the rest of their lives, turning them into shells of the people that they once were.' The old wizard gave a big sigh and stood back up. 'Come - I think a cup of hot chocolate would do you some good.'

* * *

Linnea sat in the headmaster's office, a large, brightly lit room with what seemed to be hundreds of portraits lining the walls. She clutched a mug of steaming hot chocolate, letting it warm her body. Though tears were still finding their way out of her eyes, she had largely calmed down. She was looking down at her slipper-clad feet but could feel Professor Dumbledore's piercing blue eyes on her.

'Are you all right?' he asked quietly.

Linnea gave a jerky nod and took a sip of hot chocolate.

'I owe you an apology, Linnea. Though you were out of bed after hours, it is I who put the mirror where anyone could have stumbled upon it. It has caused you a great deal of distress, and for that I am truly sorry.'

Linnea nodded again then peered up at the headmaster. 'Am I in trouble, sir?' she asked.

'No, I think you have had enough turmoil for one night,' Professor Dumbledore answered sadly. 'But may I ask what you were doing walking around the castle at this time?'

'I - I couldn't sleep. I fancied a little bit of a walk so I took the -' Linnea suddenly stopped and looked up at the headmaster. He must not have liked the look she was now giving him, for he frowned.

'Linnea? Is something wrong?'

'You're the one who sent me the Invisibility Cloak,' Linnea said simply. When Professor Dumbledore remained silent, she continued, 'If anyone else had found me in that situation, they would have asked where I got the Cloak first, rather than what I was doing out of bed. Since you didn't, that must mean that you already knew about it. I haven't had the chance to tell anyone about the Cloak yet, so you must be the one that sent it.'

Professor Dumbledore stared at the first year for a long time, careful not to let any of his surprise show on his face. _The girl is highly distraught but can still be this discerning. She could be a Ravenclaw. Worse, she could be more dangerous than I thought_. What should he do? Minerva's face flashed through his mind and he could almost hear her say "The direct route".

'Yes, I am the one that sent you the Cloak,' Professor Dumbledore said with a sigh. He would try things a different way and see what he got.

'The note said my father gave it to you before he died,' the Hufflepuff said. 'How did you know my father?'

'You know, I trust, that a wizard calling himself Lord Voldemort had gripped the Wizarding world in fear more than a decade ago?' Professor Dumbledore waited for her nod before he continued, 'I led a group named the Order of the Phoenix -' He gestured at the brilliant bird dozing on a perch behind the door. '- whose purpose was to oppose Voldemort's attempt to overthrow the magical government and claim the Wizarding world as his own. Both your father and mother were a part of the Order.'

'My parents opposed Voldemort? Is that why he attacked us that night?'

'It is…part of the reason,' Professor Dumbledore said in a resigned voice.

'What's the other part?' Linnea asked.

There was a long pause in which Linnea wondered what was so terrible that Professor Dumbledore would be so hesitant to tell her, and Professor Dumbledore wondered if he dared to tell her the horrible truth. They sat staring at each other for a long time, neither making a sound nor moving an inch. After what seemed an eternity, Professor Dumbledore shifted in his chair.

'Linnea, you already know that Lord Voldemort tried and failed to kill you ten years ago, which led to his downfall. Do you know why?' When Linnea shook her head, the old professor continued, 'It is because your mother died to protect you; this is very old magic, Linnea. When someone loves you enough to lay their life down for you, you gain a momentary protection from whatever or whomever it was that was trying to harm you. In this time, they will not be able to even touch you. This is what happened that Halloween night: your mother died to save you, and the curse that Voldemort tried to use to kill you rebounded on him.'

Linnea mulled this over for a while before looking up at the headmaster sharply. 'S - sir, are you saying that Voldemort was trying to kill me and only killed my parents because they got in the way?'

Professor Dumbledore frowned as he noticed the girl's breathing and pulse quicken. How much more could he tell her? Would she be able to handle it? But she had already proven capable of dealing with quite an amount. He would say a little more…

'Yes,' he said simply.

'B - but _why_ would some all-powerful Dark wizard want to kill a one-year-old baby?' Linnea whispered.

'As to that Linnea, I am afraid that I cannot give you an answer. It is not that I do not know - I do. But I believe you are currently too young to possess this knowledge. I know that such words must be frustrating, but please be patient with me.'

He had expected her to get angry - to shout, rage and storm - but she just nodded in resignation. He was glad that she didn't catch what must be a look of consternation on his face. _Perhaps Minerva was right after all…_She remained silent for a long time before she took a sip of hot chocolate and spoke again.

'Professor, I know that you know about my magic fluctuations. I don't appreciate that this information was kept from me.'

Professor Dumbledore winced inwardly - it seemed Linnea Potter was not one to beat around the bush.

'Yes, Professor Sprout let me know that you were aware of the situation,' he said in as soothing a voice as he could muster. 'You must understand, Linnea, that the decisions I make affect a great many deal of people, and I did not wish to cause you any inconvenience, rather protect you and your friends.'

'It had the opposite effect - I hurt Hermione,' Linnea said acidly. 'If I had known -'

'That isn't a fair statement to make, Linnea. We can never truly know what we would do in some situation until we are actually put there. It is true - if you had known, you _might_ have taken steps to overcome your condition faster. But isn't it also true that you _might_ have gotten scared and ostracized yourself from your friends - or worse, leave Hogwarts?'

Linnea paused. She wanted to argue, but she knew that the headmaster was right; if it hadn't been one of her friends who had found out first and encouraged her not be scared off, she could very well have taken the second action. She remained silent under Professor Dumbledore's brilliant blue gaze long after he had made his point.

'I did not wish to cause you undue stress,' Professor Dumbledore said. 'I wanted you to work on the issue at hand while remaining ignorant to spare both yours and your friends' consciences. And so I organized for Professor Sprout to introduce you to a fellow student that you could practise with whom you would have little chance of hurting. But as you pointed out to Professor Sprout, Miss Tonks will soon be too busy to be able to carry on with this. I am told that you would like for Professor McGonagall to help you?'

Linnea nodded and Professor Dumbledore gave a small smile.

'I will let her know. When would you like to start?'

'As soon as possible,' Linnea said at once. 'It would be good if I could control myself before everyone else came back to school.'

'Yes, indeed,' Professor Dumbledore agreed. 'Very well, I will see what I can do. Now if you are sure you are quite all right, I think you should head off to bed.'

Linnea took a final swig from the mug and stood, picking up the Invisibility Cloak as she went. She paused at the door and turned back to the headmaster.

'You seem to know an awful lot about me, Professor,' she said quietly.

'Yes, probably more than anyone else alive today,' Professor Dumbledore said with a long sigh. _Though I wish I could know more - but all in due time…_

'Do you ever plan on telling me?'

Professor Dumbledore searched her face for a long time before he said, 'One day, Linnea.'

Linnea bid the headmaster goodnight and left his office. She walked slowly back towards the Hufflepuff common room. She had never before imagined that on Christmas Day, she would be given so many things to think about. They quickly became insignificant, however, as she remembered her parents' faces - their smiles and her mother's tears. She took a deep breath to steady herself.

It looked like she would be taking that Sleeping Draught after all.


	9. Thoughts and Opinions

Ron stomped up the stairs as fast as he could, his face as red as his hair. He made it to his bedroom, roughly slammed the door and threw himself down onto his bed, where he let out a loud growl. His mother had yet again "talked" to him about Linnea Potter. It had become an almost daily occurrence and he was not sure that he could take it any more.

He also didn't understand - didn't understand the fascination that Molly Weasley held in the Girl Who Lived. Sure, everyone was interested in Linnea Potter, but his mother seemed almost obsessed. She was adamant that he should befriend her, and for the life of him he couldn't figure out why his mother wanted that so badly - and why he should be a friend to her anyway.

He had been convinced that someone like the Girl Who Lived would surely be in Gryffindor; no matter what anyone said, he knew, as did the entire Wizarding world, that it was the best house to be in. But she had gone to Hufflepuff, the house of leftovers; the girl was nowhere near what the legend was. Sure, she scored points for her house, but other than that, he couldn't see why everyone was so taken by the preening little princess. She was always prancing around the castle as if she owned the place - her and those other stuck up girls. The worst thing about it was how everyone seemed to be eating it up; they were actually calling her the "Hufflepuff Princess".

The Quidditch situation had particularly gotten to him; she had done nothing more than score two goals in that Quidditch match, but they seemed to think she was made of gold or something. She was now a starting Chaser, despite never having gone through the official team tryouts to get to play on the starting team. A first year on a Hogwarts starting team. That hadn't happened for a century, at least, by which time it was unspoken consent among the players that first years really shouldn't be on the starting teams. But of course, what would a princess be if she wasn't shown a little favor above all the rest?

He had thought that Hermione Granger was bossy, but Linnea Potter put a whole new meaning to the word. She went around ordering people as if she owned them. What was the company he kept to her? He was quite fine with Seamus and Dean - he didn't need Hermione "Know-It-All" Granger spoiling his time at Hogwarts. He would have gladly told the Princess to find someone else to be a pity pal for Granger if not for his mother's constant hounding. And so he had reluctantly tried to be the bookworm's friend. It hadn't worked, of course; she was an absolute nightmare, a nut-case. Then the puny Hufflepuff had brought her drama to the Gryffindor table and embarrassed him. And then she had actually _slapped_ him. No, he wasn't going to bother himself with Linnea Potter any more - she was nothing special. He didn't care what his mother wanted any more. If she wanted to get to know Potter, then she should do it herself. If Potter wanted to force some pour soul to be Granger's friend, then it might as well be Neville Longbottom. Everyone knew that both of them didn't deserve to be in Gryffindor.

Then there were those girls she hung out with. How could anyone decent be a friend to _Pansy Parkinson_? No, not just Parkinson, any Slytherin. That house always produced Dark wizards and he had thought that she, of all people, wouldn't go anywhere near them. But no, the savior of the Wizarding world apparently loved to consort with their kind, worst of all Draco Malfoy. True, he had been impressed by how she had handled Malfoy on the Hogwarts Express, but he had thought that she would have seen what he was like and keep her distance. But no, it seemed Malfoy had been able to buy off even the Girl Who Lived, with just a necklace. The Ravenclaw girl wasn't any better; she was almost as stuck up as Granger, if that was possible. And Taylor was just plain annoying. He really couldn't stand those girls.

Ron punched his pillow to get it a little more comfortable for him; he would take a nap. Then he would tell his mother to go out to Hogwarts herself if she wanted to see Linnea Potter so badly; she had refused his invitation - again instructed by his mother - to spend Christmas at the Burrow. Apparently being alone in the castle was a much better choice as far as she was concerned. That was fine with him. He didn't want to see her any more than necessary if he could help it.

There was a light knock on the door and his sister Ginny opened it. She stood framed in the doorway staring at him.

'What do you want Ginny?' Ron said sourly.

'Ummm…I heard you and mum talking in the kitchen just now,' Ginny said nervously. 'You looked really upset and I wanted to see if you were okay.'

Ron's expression softened at this. Ginny could be a little annoying at times, but she was his favorite sibling nonetheless. He gave her a small smile, which encouraged her to enter the room and close the door behind her.

'How's Hogwarts?' she asked, plopping down on the bed next to him.

'It's all right,' Ron answered. 'Gryffindor has been okay so far, but we're a little behind on house points. Hufflepuff is first - I guess miracles really do happen - and Slytherin's second. That git Snape docks all the points he can from Gryffindor and never takes any from Slytherin - he's their Head of House. And all the teachers just love Potter. They would give her points even if she danced naked in class, I reckon.'

'You met Linnea Potter?' Ginny asked, choosing to ignore the dancing part of her brother's comment. When he nodded, she asked, 'What's she like?'

Ron snorted. 'She's just a little princess, nothing special.'

'Mum seems to really want you to be friends with her,' Ginny observed. Ron nodded slowly, looking vaguely like he wanted to puke. 'When you say that she's a "little princess", what do you mean?'

Ron sighed and told her all about Linnea Potter; his sister's curiosity was something he had found needed to be satisfied as soon as it reared its head. His nap would have to wait.

* * *

Pansy sighed as hot tears leaked out of her bloodshot eyes. She gingerly wrapped the cloth bandages around her arms, wincing as they snagged on the open wounds. She couldn't let herself cry out - that would only make things worse. So she stayed silent, forcing down the sobs that threatened to dissolve her even further into misery.

Looking back, she could see that she had been foolish not to expect this. She had been regularly consorting with a Muggleborn, after all. That was something that her father would never take lying down. She had of course planned to never speak of Granger within the walls of her home, but she had forgotten that any one of her fellow Slytherins could have easily sent an owl to her father. How she had let this slip her mind she didn't know, as her house certainly had no scruples about commenting on the company she kept.

Disdainful looks, sneers, jeers and insults were all that awaited her in the Slytherin common room ever since she had started hanging around Potter and her friends, particularly Granger. Only Daphne stood by her - but as a silent supporter; being vocal about the issue when tempers were so high would not do anyone any favors.

It was Draco Malfoy who had given her away; her father's shouts while he shot curses at her outstretched arms had been enough of a giveaway. He was also the one who led the rest of the house in their ridicule against her. He was still trying to get closer to Potter and so would refrain from doing so in public, preferring the safety of the Slytherin common room - and Pansy herself hadn't breathed a word of what she had had to endure to anyone; it wouldn't do for a Slytherin to reveal to others how shaky her standing was within her own house.

But then, it didn't do for a Slytherin to stubbornly cling to something that was bringing her so much strife. She couldn't, for the life of her, understand why she didn't just drop Granger - and the other girls - and associate only with Potter. She kept telling herself that it was because of all the talents that they each held, but she had a deep sinking feeling that that wasn't the only reason. She also knew that if she removed herself from the group, her friendship - if she could call it that - with Potter would become very strained. She had asked herself many a time if Potter was truly worth it, but had never come up with a clear answer. She just knew that she wanted to stay on Potter's side for as long as possible; she had a feeling that being close to her would prove to be quite the asset in the future.

Roy Parkinson, however, strongly disagreed; to him, his daughter getting close to the Girl Who Lived was a monstrous betrayal of the Dark Lord. Unlike most of the remaining servants of the Dark Lord, Pansy's father believed that Lord Voldemort would one day rise again. He didn't bandy this about to the former Death Eaters, of course - not even Lucius Malfoy. He knew that all the Malfoy patriarch wanted from Potter was a means to secure a stronger grip within the Ministry for himself - as if he needed it - and so kept quiet about the matter. But _his_ daughter, betraying the Dark Lord? No, he would not have that.

But that wasn't what had gotten her arms sliced up. Being Potter's friend would simply have given her a warning, and her housemates would have simply ignored the whole thing. But when Hermione Granger entered the picture, everything changed. Her father would never have her seen in the company of a Mudblood - public or otherwise - unless it was to torture and kill them. He regarded Muggleborns as little more than goblins or house-elves. Pansy, of course, held different sentiments, but had never been vocal about them in her eleven years of life. She had kept her head down for all this time, but now she seemed to have thrown caution to the wind.

If she didn't know any better, she would have been convinced that Potter had cast a Favoris Charm on her, but she knew that the Hufflepuff wouldn't do that - it was beyond a first year in any case. Yet she found herself drawn to the Girl Who Lived, and she could never explain why. She had never counted on growing to actually like any of the girls in Potter's little group, but she knew that she had grown fond of Potter at least; she was not the quintessential Hufflepuff - Pansy was sure that she could have fit in quite well in Slytherin but it was, of course, her Hufflepuff traits that stood out the most. Perhaps this was why Pansy liked her: someone who was straightforward in their dealings, rather than the backstabbing power plays that defined Slytherin house. Pansy knew that even Daphne, though her friend, could potentially turn on her the moment things did not seem favorable; she had to look out for herself, after all. Potter, on the other hand, would never do such a thing. She had certainly proven how much she cared for her friends on Halloween - enough to risk her life for them. It would be near impossible for a true Slytherin to do that for her, but Pansy was sure that Potter would if needed. It felt…comforting to know that she had someone who wouldn't slit her throat at the nearest opportunity and would watch her back.

A "pop" sounded in the middle of the room, announcing the arrival of Zilly, one of the elves that served House Parkinson. She bowed low and said in her squeaky voice, 'Mistress wishes to see you downstairs in her study.'

Pansy cringed. 'Is Father still downstairs?' When Zilly shook her head, saying that her father had left, Pansy said, 'Tell her I will be down in a moment.' The house-elf vanished with another "pop".

Pansy looked down at her arms; blood was already seeping through the bandages, dying them red. The curses her father used would ensure that the cuts would not heal naturally for a long time, and he had forbidden anyone to heal them for her with magic. He was quite good at covering his abuses, however, and Pansy knew that she would be treated right before she went back to school. Staring at herself in the mirror of her vanity, she tried to compose her appearance - she had at least stopped crying. When she was satisfied, she made her way downstairs, passing the portraits of her ancestors who silently stared at her as she passed. Whether they felt pity of anger at her she couldn't tell.

She found her mother reading a book with a look of vague curiosity on her face. Melinda Parkinson was quite the beauty to behold, with lustrous dark brown hair and a brilliant emerald gaze. Pansy, on more than one occasion, privately questioned if she was truly her daughter; Pansy knew that she wasn't ugly in the strictest sense of the word, but she always felt inadequate when she looked at her mother, who could command the attention of an entire room through her mere presence. Pansy's hair may have been the same color as her mother's, but hers was short and stringy, and she had no doubt inherited her black eyes from her father. Other than that, she held no particular resemblance to her mother - what pained her most is how she lacked any of the delicate, feminine features that her mother possessed. She had told Pansy many times to be patient as she had been the same way when she was young, but Pansy never believed it.

'How are your arms, Dove?' Melinda said, setting her book aside and staring at her daughter. When Pansy showed her the stained bandages, her mother sighed, pulled out her wand and motioned for her to sit. She Vanished the bandages and set to work on healing her cuts.

'Won't Father be upset with you?' Pansy asked.

'Let me worry about him,' Melinda said firmly as she traced her wand along the cuts on her daughter's arms, healing them. 'I must say, though: it's been quite a while since you did something to make your father this angry at you.'

Pansy looked at her mother, making sure to keep her face impassive. 'You think I should drop my friends as well?'

Melinda took her time answering. 'I think you should do what you want, Dove.'

'Even if it means going against what Father seems to think the Dark Lord would have wanted?'

Melinda sighed. 'The Dark Lord is gone.'

'Father is certain that he will return.'

'That does not mean that it will happen,' her mother said resolutely.

'Funny - I thought you would be agreeing with him Mother, particularly where the Dark Lord is concerned.'

Melinda sighed again and remained silent for a long time. When she was done healing Pansy's wounds - and received a torrent of thanks - she said, 'It is true, I fully supported the Dark Lord's cause. I do believe that we pure-bloods should be on top, perhaps with the half-bloods at our side; after all, who would show the Muggleborns the way if it were otherwise? Most of them come to our world ignorant.'

'I've always wanted to ask you, Mother: why do you say "Muggleborn" and not…the other word?'

'Because I don't believe that being Muggleborn makes you any less of a witch or wizard - and it certainly isn't anyone's fault, which means that calling someone that ridiculous name is entirely uncalled for.'

Pansy stared at her mother. She would never have dreamed of such words coming from the Parkinson matriarch if she wasn't hearing them for herself then and there. 'Mother, are you having me on?' she blurted out.

Melinda smiled, her eyes glinting with mirth. 'No, Pansy, I am not having you on,' she said with a little laugh.

'B - But you said yourself that you supported the Dark Lord. I've grown up on stories of what it was like then.'

'Yes, but you will remember that your father and I were never Death Eaters,' Pansy's mother said. 'Would you care to venture a guess as to why? Our family is certainly rich and powerful enough to warrant at least one spot there, after all - not even the Malfoys could easily look down on us.' Pansy thought for a long time but in the end shrugged to show that she had no idea. 'It's because I didn't _want_ to join. I didn't like what was happening to the Muggles and Muggleborns, and I certainly didn't like the war either. Your father, however, was all for every single action that the Dark Lord was taking, and would have gladly had both of us take the Dark Mark if not for my pleas to the contrary. In spite of how it may appear, I know that Roy cares a great deal for me - and for you too, Dove.'

Pansy kept staring at her mother, who kept looking back at her with a sad smile on her face. She had always believed both her parents to be staunch supporters of the Dark Lord, owing to how her father kept bragging about his role in the last war and her mother always talking about having the pure-bloods in positions of authority and power within the Wizarding world. Now here she was, saying that she had no problems with the Muggleborns in and of themselves, just that the pure-bloods should be allowed in such positions as to help them make the transition to their world. It was quite a story, but Pansy was inclined to believe it; now that she thought back on all her years, she could not once remember hear her mother speak the word "Mudblood" or in any way disparage Muggleborns.

'But then if you don't have a problem with Muggleborns, why were you supporting the Dark Lord?' she asked, her voice dripping with amazement.

'I would think that that would be obvious, Dove,' Melinda answered, still with that sad smile on her face. 'Your father supported _everything_ that he did. It would hardly be considered prudent for his wife to suddenly start campaigning Muggleborn rights or anything like that. We wouldn't have lasted one night if I did something of the sort, so I supported my husband in the direction that he felt his family ought to take - I married the man, after all.'

Pansy gaped. 'And why did you marry him?'

Melinda laughed - a pleasant, melodious sort of sound. 'When you meet the right person, you will understand, Dove.'

'I'm eleven. Isn't it a little early to be thinking that way?'

'No,' Pansy's mother answered. 'I started my attraction to your father when I was twelve, after all; it may have been a long, winding road, but here we all are today as a result. Your time is soon to be upon you, Dove.'

Pansy sighed as her mother's smile widened. 'So should I drop those friends that so offend Father?'

'I already told you: do what you want. You are not married yet, so you still have that freedom to some extent,' Melinda said with another laugh. 'Live your life as much as you can before circumstances force you to walk one path alone. I will have a little talk with your father and see if we can't sort this out.'

'But he hates Muggleborns,' Pansy said in disbelief. 'Can he really be swayed?'

'Of course he can - he is a man.' Melinda chuckled again. 'And we are a family of Slytherins - all we have to do is let him see that your association with this girl is beneficial to you. From what you said, she is quite bright, which we can twist around in your favor. I can help you with your father, but your house is another matter entirely.'

'I can handle the other Slytherins,' Pansy said with confidence. 'None of them have actually attacked me yet.'

'They wouldn't dare: our family is in higher standing than most of theirs. But just to get your point across, I would recommend that you hex that little brat, Draco Malfoy; he is the one that went running to his father with news of your dealings, after all. Make him see the wisdom of staying out of your business and I'm sure many more will follow.'

'Thank you, Mother,' Pansy said with a smile.

'Anything for you, Dove,' Melinda said fondly. 'Well, now that that's settled, why don't you tell me more about these friends of yours, particularly Potter. Daphne isn't expected for another two hours, and I would take this chance to speak to my daughter before she wants nothing to do with me.'

* * *

Hermione was rambling, as she always did when she was excited. She sat in the living room, which was bathed in light from the brilliantly decorated Christmas tree in the corner. She was telling her parents, who were both dentists, all about her first term at Hogwarts; her younger sister, Sarah was at a friend's place, which meant she would have to tell the story twice. She didn't mind at all. Her parents were staring at her with bemused smiles on their faces; they couldn't remember the last time that they had seen their eldest daughter so happy.

'- and then there's Professor McGonagall - the one who came to explain the letter, remember? She teaches Transfiguration and it's the most _amazing_ subject; we get to turn things into other things! It's really quite fascinating. Then there's -'

'Hermione, dear, you need to relax,' her father said, laughing heartily. He had brown eyes behind wire-framed glasses and equally brown hair as bushy as her own. 'It's clear that you really do love the teachers, but what about the other students? Are they - are they treating you well?'

Both parents were accustomed to asking this question which would normally result in their daughter putting on a brave face. They were therefore pleasantly surprised to see Hermione beam like she had been declared keeper of all the world's libraries.

'Oh! I have the most amazing friends - and they're from all the houses. There's Su from Ravenclaw, Pansy from Slytherin, Leanne from Hufflepuff and Linnea - she's in Hufflepuff too.' Hermione was so excited to be telling her parents about her group of friends that she didn't even notice that she had counted Pansy among them, despite her insistence to herself that she was in fact _not _her friend. 'Su is Chinese; she can be cold and a little too quiet sometimes, but she's also _very_ smart. I used to hate Pansy because she can be so mean, but then I saw that she's only mean to people who annoy her. Leanne isn't the "serious student" type of person but she's really funny and pretty. Then there's Linnea - well, she saved my life so how could I not like her? She's -'

'Wait, what?' Jean Grangersaid sharply. 'What was that about saving your life?'

Hermione faltered as she was suddenly subject to the piercing brown-eyed gaze of both her parents. They were not smiling.

'Er, well…I - I'm sure you were sent an owl about the whole thing -'

'We haven't received any letters from Hogwarts since you started there,' Michael Granger said.

Hermione was shocked. 'You didn't? I thought you would, it was a fairly big deal.'

'Tell us.'

'Well, on Halloween, this boy in my house said some bad things to me -'

'What boy?' Michaeldemanded with a growl.

'Er - Ron Weasley. H - he said some nasty things to me and I was so upset that I - I went to stay and cry in the girls' lavatory. It's a bit silly, now that I think about it…anyway, a - a troll got loose in the castle and found me there -'

'A troll? Trolls exist?'

'Yes - yes, they do. One found me there in the bathroom and it had a club. It - it was about to kill me when Linnea came in to help me.'

Her mother's hand went to her mouth while her father simply gaped. Hermione had to admit that even in a magical school, it wasn't every day that you told your parents that you nearly got killed by a mountain troll.

'Did you get hurt?' her father asked urgently.

Hermione thought quickly about what she could divulge and said, 'N - no, I wasn't. Like I said, Linnea saved me. Sh - she killed the troll before it could hurt me.' That much, at least, was true.

However, while Hermione was certainly a very clever girl, she had always had one severe weakness when it came to authority figures…

'Hermione, there's something more, isn't there? What don't you want to tell us?'

_Brilliant_, the bushy-haired witch thought bitterly, _you've been friends with Pansy all this time and you haven't even picked up the skills for basic lying. Good work, Granger. _Then she startled herself. _Why am I thinking like that? Why would I emulate _Pansy_?_

'Hermione,' Michael said, 'tell us what else happened.'

Hermione sighed. Her parents knew that she was trying to hide something and so they would persist until they could wring it out of her. There was no point in delaying the inevitable. 'M - Mum, Dad - please don't be angry at Linnea; if it wasn't for her, I wouldn't be here.' After her parents had had time to each give a nod, she continued, 'Linnea used a Severing Charm when she was fighting the troll - but I got caught with it too.'

'And what is it that a Severing Charm does?' Jean asked; Hermione was sure that neither of them needed to be told - it was in the name, after all.

'It - it cuts things. But Madam Pomfrey made it heal in about a second.'

Her mother's hand once again flew to her mouth while her father simply closed his eyes, no doubt trying hard to keep his breath even. The silence was deafening. Hermione suddenly wished that Sarah was here to diffuse the tension, as she so often did. She fidgeted and stared down at the rug, waiting for her parents to say something.

'Hermione, dear…are you quite sure that Hogwarts is the best place for you?'

'Yes,' Hermione said at once. 'Please don't make me leave - I can't. I like it there; I have friends, not everybody hates me, not like all the other places. Please, please let me keep going. I'll be more careful, I promise.'

They couldn't say no to that face, not when it had set its misty doe eyes on them. Michael and Jean looked at each other. There was no need for words.

'It's all right, Hermione, we won't take you out of Hogwarts,' her father said gently. 'But perhaps we should have a talk with the headmaster. I don't like that this was kept from us. Did that boy who got you stuck in that bathroom get punished?'

'N - no, he didn't. I didn't tell the professors about the things he said.'

'And why not?' Jean Granger asked hotly.

'They were mean, embarrassing and a little true. I didn't want to think about it.'

'That doesn't mean you should keep quiet.' Her father shook her head. 'You should tell at least that Professor McGonagall, she seems to be reasonable. That boy deserves to be punished. Can we send a letter to her?'

'Yes. You just need to address it to Hogwarts and it'll find its way there within a day - at least according to _Hogwarts: A History_.'

'Then that's what we're going to do - we'll go to the school too if we can manage it.'

'Dad, it really isn't necessary.' Even as she tried Hermione knew that those words wouldn't set them off course.

'It may not be necessary for you, but it is for us. We'll talk more about it later, alright?'

'Yes, Dad.'

'I'd also like to have that Madam…Pompey, was it?'

'Madam Pomfrey,' Hermione corrected. 'She's the school nurse.'

'Yes, I'd like to have a little chat with her as well - and this friend of yours, Linnea.'

Hermione could see the steely resolve in her mother's eyes and knew that she would not budge; she nodded meekly in acceptance, and silence reigned again. She could already imagine the fireworks that would be on display when she went back to Hogwarts with her parents in tow.

* * *

Leanne's eyes were shut tight, and her right hand was raised to her temple. She was quite sure that she would be having a migraine any moment now. Her younger brother seemed determined to have it happen, at the very least. The Taylor family had always been open with each other - perhaps a little loud - but the verbal bombardment was reaching new heights. Leanne could understand his excitement, though; James was excited to hear all he could about Hogwarts, as he would be joining her there next year.

And of course he wanted to hear all that he could about Linnea Potter.

'What does she look like? What is she really like? Did she really end up in Hufflepuff? Are you really best friends? Is she -?'

'James, please, _please_ slow down,' Leanne said tiredly. She had been subject to his relentless questioning for the past five minutes, which got her wishing to have the Restriction of Underage Sorcery momentarily lifted so that she could do something nasty. 'If you would just ask your questions one at a time, I could answer them. Otherwise I'll get Mum to curse your mouth shut, okay?'

James looked a little abashed and nodded. Leanne never was able to stay angry at him for very long, and she smiled fondly, encouraging him to ask his questions.

'What does she look like?'

'Well, she's really tiny,' said Leanne. 'The only first year who's smaller than her is Daphne Greengrass. She's got red hair and grey eyes. She's really thin, though; she mentioned that she didn't get the best treatment from her Muggle relatives who she was living with, and it definitely shows. She'll probably turn into a knockout if she keeps herself fed up.'

Leanne glanced at her brother and her eyes widened when she saw him actually taking notes. She supposed that she shouldn't be too surprised; her brother put a lot of emphasis on documenting almost every little thing that happened around him - a trait he had inherited from their former Ravenclaw mother. He nodded after looking through what he had written so far and asked, 'What's she like?'

'Well, she's the cheerful sort; I haven't seen her feel down very often, and she's almost always smiling. She absolutely _loves_ making friends, and from all the houses too; she got me and some other girls together to form a kind of study group, though now we generally hang out with each other. I was skeptical at first, but I have to admit that she was right - all those girls have something good about them. But at the same time, they really can tempt you to hex them while they aren't looking.

'Lin's really smart. She rules the practical parts of classes; she's amazing with a wand. But when it comes to general smarts and understanding theories and such, I would give the edge to Hermione and Su. Her favorite classes are Potions - if you can believe that - and Charms; she can't shut up about them. She really likes Defense Against the Dark Arts too, but she hates the teacher, Professor Quirrell - and everyone else thinks that he's not all up there, if you know what I mean. Ummm…her least favorite classes are Herbology - she hates getting dirty, but she can stand dealing with plants at least - Magical History - of course - and Transfiguration; I thought she was just being paranoid, but after the introductory lessons were over with, she wasn't nearly as good at it as she is with everything else. She doesn't mind Astrology, though she isn't too interested.

'She's brilliant at Quidditch; she's actually a starting Chaser on the Hufflepuff team, can you imagine? She was a reserve during the last match, but Applebee got hurt and she came on and she was _amazing_. She's using Applebee's broom, though, since we first years can't have our own; she's always fantasizing about next year when she can go out and buy her own broom.'

Leanne paused to take a sip from the glass of eggnog that stood on the little stool beside her before continuing, 'She's brave - _really_ brave; she could be a Gryffindor, honestly. A troll got loose in the castle on Halloween, and she fought it off to save our friend Hermione. She's powerful; she actually managed to kill it - burnt it to death, actually.'

James blinked. 'She killed a troll?' His voice was dripping with a mixture of awe and disbelief.

'She did,' Leanne confirmed with a nod. 'Like I said, she burnt it to death. She must have used a modified Fire Charm, but I don't know exactly which one - no other first year does, not even Hermione and Su. I think she knows more spells than anyone else in our year.'

James' hand was flying across his parchment, the quill scratching on it in an almost haphazard fashion as he wrote as fast as he could. 'It sounds like you know a fair bit about her.'

'I do,' Leanne confirmed with a smile. 'We've gotten close - I'd say she's definitely my best friend. Being in the same house doesn't hurt - though that was certainly a surprise, let me tell you. You should have seen the students' reaction at the Opening Feast.'

James scribbled some more before saying, 'I'll go up and file these away, shall I?'

'I still don't understand why you and Mum like doing that,' Leanne grumbled with a shrug.

'Documentation is extremely important. That's all.'

Leanne sighed and watched her younger brother charge out of the living room and heard him bound up the stairs in his eagerness to sort his parchment into his files. The propensity for absolute order in everything he did was the one thing that she didn't warm up to when it came to James Taylor.

Her mother's voice almost made her jump to the ceiling as she said, 'You seem to have quite a lot to say about Linnea Potter.'

'Don't sneak up on people like that!' Leanne protested, clutching her heart. Her mother chuckled as she settled into the chair next to her.

'I may be wrong, but I think you said something about a troll being loose in the castle?'

'Yeah, it happened on Halloween,' Leanne said airily with a lazy wave of her hand. Then she spotted the frown on her mother's face. 'Wait…you didn't know?'

'No. This is the first I am hearing of this.'

'That's strange, I expected Professor Dumbledore would have let the parents know. Maybe he didn't want to because the troll didn't actually hurt anyone.'

'No, that's not right,' Leanne's mother said, shaking her head. 'It doesn't matter whether or not a student was hurt; that was a major security risk and should have been reported to the parents. What was a troll even _doing_ at Hogwarts? Only the staff could have brought it in, but what for?'

'I have no idea,' Leanne answered with a shrug. 'They haven't even caught whoever it was that let it loose. And no one has any idea why someone would do that anyway.'

'I really don't like this - especially that seemingly no one outside Hogwarts has heard about this. I see that Dumbledore hasn't lost his touch of keeping secrets and covering things up.'

'You really hate Professor Dumbledore, don't you, Mum?' Leanne asked this in barely more than a whisper, as she already knew the answer.

'How could I not? After what happened to you and James' father, thanks to Dumbledore's secrets and -' Her mother took a deep breath to calm herself down. 'People treat Dumbledore as if he walks on air, and many in our world are too blindly loyal to him for my taste - I'll admit that I was one of them at some point, but I'm too heavily disillusioned now. The old man is actually keeping something like this from the parents…he's up to something - he always is, after all. Promise me you'll be careful at Hogwarts, Leanne, especially around Dumbledore.'

'I promise, Mum,' Leanne said. Her mother sighed and turned to give her a soft hug.

'I'm sorry to dump things like this on you, but I want you to be safe; it's just you, me and James now, and we have to take care of each other.'

Leanne nodded against her mother's shoulder. She could barely even remember what her father had looked like, but the Taylor family always felt his absence with every passing day. She had grown up with the knowledge that her mother despised the great Albus Dumbledore for some of the tragedies that had befallen the Wizarding world - tragedies that he should have been able to prevent, if he had acted. She had been told how her father had died, and she agreed with her mother: much of the blame could be laid on the headmaster of Hogwarts. She had kept her distance from the old man so far, due heavily to her mother's request, and she hoped to keep it that way.

'Keep an eye on your friends as well - especially Linnea Potter. Watch out for her; with this troll business, it's clear that there's something going on in that castle, something that Dumbledore doesn't want known - and I don't think that it's a coincidence that Linnea Potter just happened to come to Hogwarts at the same time.'

Leanne nodded again, though she didn't need to be told to look after her friends. She would do that absent anyone's request. She would protect them as best as she could, even Pansy _bloody_ Parkinson.

* * *

Su was quite happy to be alone as she lay on her bed, reading a book. She was therefore a little miffed at the knock on the door that announced the entry of her foster brother, Tyson Aubrey. He was the same age as her, but with blond hair and brown eyes. After getting two sons, the Aubreys had very much wanted to have a daughter, and so they had adopted Su. She had no idea where her biological parents were, or even if they were alive - and she had given up on wondering. Tyson and Daniel, her elder foster brother, had been as shocked as she - and their parents - had been when Su received her Hogwarts letter; Su's family were all Muggles. When she had come back for Christmas break, the entire family had been eager to hear all that she had to say about Hogwarts - which, admittedly hadn't been enough to satisfy their curiosity. Su hadn't said much, which wasn't anything new to them, but they were still disappointed.

'Hey, sis, I just wanted to check in on you - I hope you don't mind.'

'I do, actually,' Su said, careful to keep any ill feeling out of her voice as she wasn't too upset. 'You just interrupted my reading, and this book is rather good.'

'Is it magical?' Tyson asked eagerly. He deflated when Su shook her head and showed him the cover of the romance novel. 'Oh…well then, I guess I'll leave you to it.'

'I would like that.'

Before he closed the door, however, Tyson turned back and said, 'I know we've all been pretty much hounding you for details about the whole magic thing and it's probably getting a little annoying, but I hope you can at least understand that we just want to know about your life there.'

'I can,' Su confirmed.

Tyson nodded and left the room. Su tried to keep reading but gave up with a sigh. She was thinking back to her time at Hogwarts so far. She had a small contingent of friends, something that she had never thought to be possible. She was well aware that her cold demeanor put people off trying to get to know her, but she had gotten accustomed to it; she certainly wouldn't change her personality just to appease someone. She had therefore had to endure years of being shunned by her peers and comments about her ancestry from them, which had only resulted in her becoming guarded against people. She had therefore been pleasantly surprised when Linnea had tried - repeatedly - to befriend her and finally succeeded. Su counted Linnea and the other girls - except Parkinson, of course - as her friends, despite the fact that they often grated on each other's nerves. She was yet to open up to any of them; she was still afraid of getting hurt again.

Su knew that Linnea wouldn't rest until she succeeded in getting Su to bare herself; she kept insisting that it would have a therapeutic effect in regards to how she related with the other students. She had at least one point in her favor: she knew that Su had a soft spot for Cedric Diggory, the Hufflepuff Seeker, despite Su's best attempts to hide it. Linnea saw this as a crack in Su's armor, and she relentlessly poked and prodded at it, no doubt hoping that the crack would widen.

It was not so long ago that Su would have completely shut down in response to this, but she knew that all Linnea wanted was to see the face behind the mask that she had worn for so long. And she liked Linnea - _a lot_. She was kind and thoughtful to her and the other girls that comprised their little group. Su would never admit it, but it made her happy to be included in something. She would often butt heads with the other girls, but after two months it had turned into good-natured ribbing rather than outright hostility, even from Parkinson. She still didn't trust the Slytherin, but she no longer felt a dip in her mood whenever she was around.

Su was sure that none of the others would go out of their way to hurt her, even Parkinson, but she was still nervous about divulging her thoughts and emotions to them; Parkinson often said that she would have fit in exceptionally well at Slytherin in that regard. She realized how hard it must be to trust someone who you didn't know, and she was afraid that they would eventually drop her if she kept hiding herself. She didn't want that to happen.

And so she had come to the conclusion that she had to step up and face her fear of betrayal. She would open up to the girls - slowly - so that they could truly get to know her. She was terrified at the idea, but she was more terrified of getting abandoned - again.

She sighed as she let her eyes fall on the diary on her bedside table. She had sent Linnea one; she honestly thought that the Hufflepuff would benefit from writing down her innermost thoughts. Su, on the other hand, would stop writing in her diary for some time; she needed to confide in _people_ for a change, and she would start trying as soon as she returned to Hogwarts.

* * *

_Dear Draco,_

_Merry Christmas. I hope you're enjoying your holidays as much as I am. The castle is more than a little quiet, but I've managed to keep myself occupied. It is deathly cold outside, though, which makes me a little depressed since I can't go out and fly comfortably._

_I want to thank you for the bracelet you got me - it really is gorgeous. I also want to apologize for not having a gift for you in return. This is the second gift you have seen fit to give me and I am ashamed not to have thought to return the favor. I hope that you can forgive me._

_Perhaps I could repay you next term. I would be happy to spend a little more time with you, if you are agreeable, both to thank you and get to know you a little better._

_Again, thank you for thinking of me, and please give my best to your parents and offer my apologies on not being able to take up their offer to spend Christmas with you. I was flattered, and hope that one day I can repay their kindness as well._

_Your friend,_

_Linnea._

'Very good,' Lucius Malfoy said with approval, looking down at the letter. Beside him, his son Draco was looking quite pleased with himself. 'I was beginning to have doubts on whether you could fulfill the task I gave you, Draco, but it seems that all you needed was time. Well done. I trust that I can expect more progress come next year?'

'Yes, Father,' Draco answered confidently.

'Very well. I think it would do for you to write a reply to Miss Potter. I trust that you can come up with the contents yourself.'

Draco nodded and left the room, leaving Lucius and his wife Narcissa alone. She held a cup of tea in her hands and was sipping from it delicately.

'Draco has been struggling to get closer to the girl,' Lucius observed. 'Do you believe that he will succeed?'

'Things could go either way,' Narcissa replied. 'From her letter, it seems that she seems to value fair turns; this may give Draco the opportunity that he's been looking for. But from what he has told us about her, she keeps less…expected company, and Draco must be careful not to lash out at her friends or he would risk alienating her.'

'I trust you can inform our son on the delicacy of this situation?'

Narcissa nodded and proceeded to ask, 'Is getting close to the girl really necessary?'

'Necessary? No, not particularly - but it couldn't hurt. Having the Girl Who Lived backing us could only make the Malfoy name soar higher than it already is. This is more about security than necessity.'

'And what of our old friends? Would they approve of such an association?'

'The Dark Lord is gone,' Lucius snapped. 'If the fools are too blind to see it then they deserve to be in cells alongside your dear sister and her wretched husband. Potter can help us in this world of peace, not a dead Dark wizard who got himself killed by a baby girl.'

Narcissa sighed and nodded again. She sipped her tea. There was silence for many moments before her husband announced that he had business to attend to and left the manor. She remained in the study for a few moments, finishing her tea, before she went upstairs to her son Draco's room.

He was already penning a reply to Linnea Potter. She smiled at the eagerness he displayed in completing the job that his father had given him. He had always wanted to please his father, ever since he was a little boy. But Narcissa worried about his total submission to Lucius - not to mention his dependence on his father's wealth and status; she would like Draco to grow into a man in his own right, and not be a copy of his father. Like any mother, she wanted her son to be happy and able to live with his choices.

Draco wasn't nearly as ruthless as his father but tried so hard to be. It pained her to see him try and fail to be like the man he so looked up to. She had hoped that going to Hogwarts would help him find his own path; she knew that it would take time, but perhaps a push in the right direction would be beneficial.

'Draco, dear, already working on your letter?' When her son nodded in response, she said, 'Set your quill down, I'd like to have a little chat.'

'What about, Mother?' Draco asked.

'About Linnea Potter. I know that it is your father that wants you to befriend her to secure the family's position within the Ministry, but I want to ask you: do _you_ want to be Linnea Potter's friend?'

'She's all right, I suppose,' said Draco. 'The company she keeps could use some improvement, though - especially that Mudblood, Granger.'

'Draco,' Narcissa said tiredly. 'I have told you repeatedly when it is just you and me not to use that word. It is not Miss Granger's fault that she was born to Muggle parents, and using such profanity therefore has no reason.'

'B - But they're nothing,' Draco sputtered. 'They're just freaks, aren't they? Abominations -'

'Yes, well, from what you've told us that _abomination_ seems to be much more intelligent than you in every regard,' Narcissa snapped, which shut her son up at once. 'Yes, we pure-bloods are superior to the half-bloods and the Muggleborns as far as our standing in our world is concerned. While lording this superiority over others may gain you some friends, it is much more likely to gain you several enemies. Think as a Slytherin would at all times: let your power and virtue speak for themselves, rather than giving them false life with your voice. Do not give your enemies an easy target by making a spectacle of yourself. Do you understand?'

'Yes, Mother,' Draco grumbled. Narcissa knew that he hated to have her correct him - especially with words opposite to what his father would typically say - but she would not let that stop her from imparting her knowledge of the world to her son - knowledge that he needed to survive and prosper.

'Now, back to Linnea Potter. Your father is the one that instructed you to get close to her, but have you actually considered getting close to her _yourself_ - on your own merit, and because _you_ believe that she warrants your friendship?'

'I'm not sure,' Draco said with a heavy frown. 'Being her actual friend would mean hanging around those other girls she's always with. Pansy does so and it's made her very unpopular within the house, particularly because of Granger. I don't think that that's worth it.'

'Then how exactly were you planning on getting close to her?'

'I wasn't planning on getting too close - just close enough to form some sort of alliance with her; that's what Father told me to do, after all. I wouldn't need to stick around her friends for that. Now that she's willing to spend more time with me we can establish this sort of relationship.'

Narcissa sighed. 'Why d'you think that Pansy has remained friends with Potter's associates if it makes her the joke of Slytherin house?'

'I don't know,' Draco said with a dismissive shrug. 'Who knows what she's thinking?'

'Perhaps you should ask her,' Narcissa suggested softly. She turned to leave, but before doing so added, 'It sometimes pays to have friendships where no one would expect them, Draco. Friendships are shaky things, but alliances are even more so; alliances can easily break, shift or be turned around against you - much more easily than friendships can. Do what you wish or what you believe would get your father what he wants, but think on what I have just told you - it may give you a little insight into young Miss Parkinson, and perhaps light a path for you as well.'

With that Narcissa left, leaving a very confused Draco sitting in his chair.


	10. Lines Drawn

As one, the Hufflepuff girls walked into their dormitory to find Linnea sitting cross-legged on her bed, watching the door with rapt attention and Abell rolling around on the floor, playing with a ball of string.

'Hello there, Princess - watching for your subjects, are you?' Leanne said jokingly.

In response, Linnea bolted off her bed and practically dove at the other girls for a group hug.

'Wow, I didn't know you cared,' her best friend said quietly, patting her back.

'It must have been awful to have been all alone in this place,' Susan said consolingly.

'It was,' Linnea confirmed. 'I missed you all so much.'

'This is why I told you to stop being stubborn and come to my place for Christmas,' Leanne scolded as the embrace was broken and the other girls wandered off.

'I couldn't impose on your family like that -'

'I told Mum that's what you said - she kept on and on asking me why I didn't bring you home after I told her you were the only Hufflepuff remaining. I don't think she really believed me, either; she probably thought I forgot to ask you or something.'

'Sorry,' Linnea said sadly.

'It's okay. You won't be able to escape at the end of term; she'll be on the train platform and insisted on meeting you.'

Linnea nodded. If Mrs Taylor was anything like Leanne, she was sure that they would be able to get along. She pushed the thought out of her mind, however, when she remembered the things that she wanted to discuss with Leanne.

'That's great, but never mind that now - I have to tell you about my Christmas,' she said urgently, taking hold of Leanne's arms and dragging her to the four-poster bed that she had just vacated.

'Why, what happened?' the dark-haired girl asked curiously.

'A lot,' Linnea said firmly, and proceeded to tell Leanne about everything that had transpired during Christmas - the Invisibility Cloak, Professor Snape and Professor Quirrell's conversation, the Mirror of Erised, her and Professor Dumbledore's talk, and even the extra lessons with Professor McGonagall, which of course was foreshadowed by an explanation of her unstable spellcasting. When she was done, Linnea's throat was very sore and Leanne was gaping at her.

'I don't think "a lot" quite covers it, Lin,' she said quietly; she looked around to see that none of the other girls were trying to listen in on their conversation. The Hufflepuff girls were at least considerate of each other's privacy. 'Er…let's start with the Invisibility Cloak. You said it was your dad's? And Dumbledore gave it to you?'

'Yeah. He knew my dad. He said he was a member of the Order of the Phoenix - they fought Voldemort -' Leanne gasped. '- during the last war.' Linnea was so intent on talking about everything she had seen and heard that she didn't care about Leanne's flinch at the Dark Lord's name.

'Wow. Invisibility Cloaks are really rare, Lin. Take good care of it.' Leanne paused before asking in a slightly longing tone, 'Can I see it?'

'Later at night, I promise,' Linnea responded. When Leanne gave a sigh and a nod, she continued, 'I used the Cloak to go out for a walk - that's when I came across Professor Snape and Professor Quirrell.'

Leanne adopted a thoughtful expression as she mulled over what Linnea had told her of the words shared by the two men. 'So now we know that Professor Quirrell is definitely a bad guy,' she mused. 'But what's this stone that he's trying to steal?'

'I don't know,' Linnea said with obvious frustration. 'I searched the library for information on magical stones, but nothing really caught my eye.'

'Perhaps Hermione or Su will have an idea. But if Professor Snape knows for a fact that Professor Quirrell is trying to steal something in the school, why doesn't he tell Professor Dumbledore?'

'I'm sure he did - I don't think there's much that goes on at Hogwarts that Professor Dumbledore doesn't know about.'

'Then why doesn't the headmaster kick him out?'

'I don't know,' Linnea said, her frustration mounting as she repeated the words. 'Professor Quirrell is really bent on getting this thing, so I don't see why they're letting him stay in the castle.'

Leanne bit her lip before asking, 'You're sure that Professor Quirrell was the one behind the Gringotts break-in?'

'Professor Snape certainly thinks so - and I agree. I remember seeing him in the Leaky Cauldron and it was supposedly on the same day as the break-in; it was the day that Hagrid took me to Diagon Alley.'

'Which is also when he withdrew something from another vault. Considering that he didn't want to tell you what it was, I think you're right - that's whatever Professor Quirrell wants. But then that means that Hagrid knows exactly what it is. Maybe we can ask him and save us the trouble of thinking about it.'

'I'm not sure if he'll tell us,' Linnea said uncertainly. 'I'm curious too, but I just don't want Professor Quirrell getting his hands on whatever it is. I don't know what it is about him, but I always feel really uncomfortable whenever he's close.'

'You've been saying that so many times I was afraid your mouth wouldn't be able to have anything else coming out of it.' Leanne snorted. 'But you're right again - it'll be okay if Professor Quirrell doesn't get…_it_.'

'It has to be in the castle,' Linnea mused, 'but where? Where would I keep something I want to protect within Hogwarts?'

The two girls lapsed into silence as they racked their brains. Then Leanne suddenly gasped and began flapping her arms in Linnea's direction.

'The third floor!' she whispered dramatically.

'Huh?'

'The third floor. D'you remember at the start of term how Professor Dumbledore said that the third floor corridor was forbidden and anyone who went there would die? I bet that's where the thing is!'

Linnea gasped as well. She knew that Leanne was right.

'Let's go see what it is!' Leanne declared excitedly.

'That's a bad idea,' said Linnea with a frown.

'Why?'

'I doubt they would have it behind just a locked door, otherwise Professor Quirrell could have made off with it already. There must be some very elaborate protections around this thing. I think Professor Dumbledore was serious when he said that you could die if you went there.'

'Okay,' Leanne said mournfully. 'On the bright side, Professor Quirrell won't be able to steal the thing so easily! But enough on the evil stuttering teacher front - you said you saw your parents in a _mirror_?'

'Yes,' Linnea said with a small, sad smile. 'The Mirror of Erised - it shows you whatever it is that you want the most. But Professor Dumbledore said it was dangerous; apparently there are people who've actually spent the rest of their lives just staring at it.'

'Seriously? Then why did he leave it where anyone could find it?'

'I don't know that, either. There seem to be a lot of things the headmaster does that just don't make sense.'

Leanne, remembering her mother's warnings, nodded slowly. Then an idea struck her.

'Maybe the Mirror has something to do with this stone they're protecting,' she said excitedly. When Linnea frowned, she elaborated, 'It's like the troll thing all over again - remember we couldn't figure out what they could want with a troll in the castle? Well, maybe they're using trolls to protect the stone - and maybe the Mirror is also a part of it somehow. I can't think of a reason for having something like that in a school full of kids, otherwise.'

_It certainly makes sense_, thought Linnea. Then she frowned again.

'If that's true then Professor Dumbledore sure is taking chances with how safe the students are. I mean, that troll could have met anyone in the corridors and anyone could have found the Mirror.'

Leanne sighed as she nodded in agreement; she was starting to understand what her mother had been so concerned about.

'He seems to be really interested in you,' she said with a hint of worry. 'Why is that?'

'It seems to me that everyone I meet is interested in me,' Linnea said with a shrug, 'but Professor Dumbledore certainly does seem to know more about me than he lets on.'

'And he was having the teachers watch you,' Leanne reminded her. 'Speaking of that, you said your spellcasting was unstable. How is it now?'

Linnea had been meeting Professor McGonagall almost every day since her talk with Professor Dumbledore. They weren't standard lessons, however; Professor McGonagall took her through mostly mental exercises designed to improve her concentration, which would of course help her channel her intent and focus her magical essence into a spell. She had also showed her some breathing routines to perform every night before bed; they were supposed to keep her calm and give her mind a chance to "branch out", as she said. Linnea didn't quite understand the reasons behind Professor McGonagall's instructions, but she could not deny that they were indeed helping; though she still had a few lapses, she was now able to cast spells at a roughly consistent power level. She had explained to Linnea that she was capable of more power than that, but had advised getting used to casting spells at a consistent level first, before she tried to push her boundaries as other students typically did. The Scottish professor was satisfied with her progress, and assured her that at the current pace she would have herself under control by the end of the year. To say that Linnea had been relieved by her assessment would be an understatement.

'I still have a few accidents here and there,' she said, 'but I can at least control how much essence I'm channeling into a spell now. She's been getting me to cast everything I can at one consistent level. It was exhausting, but I got the hang of it in about two weeks. She told me I'd be fine if I kept going by myself, but says that if anything serious happens I should go to her or Professor Sprout immediately.'

Leanne nodded, looking pleased for her friend. 'Do you want to tell the others about all this?'

Linnea paused. The same question had been ravaging her mind throughout the entire Christmas break. She had known without question that she would share everything with Leanne, but she wasn't absolutely sure about the others. She trusted them, but was afraid of how they might react to the story of her "unstable magical essence", as Professor McGonagall had called it. Su already had an idea about it, so she was sure the Chinese girl would be okay with it. She was mostly scared about Hermione; she still felt guilty for hurting her with the Severing Charm and was afraid that this bit of information might drive her away.

'Honestly, I'm a little scared to tell them,' she said hesitantly. 'But we're all friends, aren't we? I trust them. I'm just afraid of how they might react.'

'I'll tell you how they'll react,' Leanne said with a snort. 'Su will probably just say "What else is new?", Hermione will get pissed that you were breaking the rules then jealous that you had a one-on-one chat with _the _Professor Dumbledore and Pansy will smirk and sneer. I honestly don't think any of them will be too bothered.'

'Yeah,' Linnea said thoughtfully - then she brightened. 'Yeah, you're right. I trust them, so I should tell them everything. It's only logical.'

'Now _you_ sound like Hermione,' Leanne said with a laugh. 'Well then, it looks like we'll have a long talk at dinner. We should get going.'

Linnea nodded and jumped off the bed, her smile eclipsing the entirety of her face. She followed Leanne out through the Hufflepuff common room, picturing her friends' faces when she told them all what an interesting Christmas she had had.

* * *

The conversation at dinner went largely as Leanne had predicted; the other girls were impressed and excited about most of the things she had to tell them - though Pansy and Su were very efficient at hiding it - while they barely batted an eye at the news that she could have blown someone's head off during her time at Hogwarts. Instead of trying to get out of the "danger zone" as she had feared, they had expressed concern for her - except for Pansy, of course; she would only do so in private - and congratulated her on the progress she seemed to be making in rectifying the problem. Hermione was most interested in her and Professor Dumbledore's talk, Su just sighed a lot and by the time she was finished talking, Linnea was convinced that Pansy would steal her Invisibility Cloak the first chance she got.

She was seated alongside Pansy in the Magical History classroom at the moment, writing on a piece of parchment. She knew that she should be paying attention, rather than completing her essay on the Softening Charm, but it was impossible; Professor Binns was the worst teacher she had ever encountered. First of all, he was a ghost. Second, he didn't seem to register anything other than the book he was dictating notes out of. Third, his voice was a grating monotone, and put off anyone who had actually hoped to learn about the history of the Wizarding world. It was amazing how he made even bloody goblin and giant wars sound so boring. No one paid any attention in his classes. Only a few had been wise enough to bring quills that wrote the notes for them while they peacefully slept. Linnea was very jealous.

She had noticed Draco staring at her all through the lesson out of the corner of her eye. She hadn't been able to speak to him yet, and was anxious to thank him for his gift and fulfill her promise on spending some time with him. Thankfully, it was the last lesson of the day, and she would be able to do just that. She smiled and gave a little wave when she caught his eye, and he smiled back before quickly looking away. Linnea turned back to her essay and saw Pansy smirking at her.

'What?' she asked defensively.

'Nothing, I've just decided that watching you is more entertaining than listening to Binns and more productive than taking a nap,' replied Pansy.

Linnea shook her head. 'Seriously, how can they let Professor Binns teach?'

'Aren't you satisfied with the greatest institute of magical learning in the world, Princess?'

'I'm not satisfied with the "greatest" education in Magical History in the world.'

Pansy shrugged, then asked, 'So what did you do to Draco? He hasn't been able to keep his eyes off you ever since we got back for second term.'

'I don't know,' Linnea whispered back. 'I did promise to spend some time with him, maybe that's it.'

'No,' Pansy said, shaking her head, 'this is something else. It's like he's trying to decide on something about you.'

'Any ideas? You do live with him in a sense.'

'Not a clue,' Pansy said with distaste. 'He sold me out, so I'm not exactly keen on being too close to him.'

'Sold you out?' Linnea repeated with an extremely confused look on her face; Pansy went a little pale before shrugging and muttering, 'It's nothing,' and looking at Professor Binns, as though suddenly interested in the lesson. Linnea opened her mouth to ask the Slytherin what was wrong but before she could, the bell signaling the end of classes rang. Pansy quickly packed up her things and left.

Linnea stared after her for a long time before shrugging and putting her own things away. From her slip, she could tell that something was bothering Pansy - something about Draco. She decided that it would be better to wait for Pansy to bring it up on her own. She walked out of the classroom and found the boy in question leaning against the wall opposite the door; Vincent and Gregory were strangely absent.

'Hello,' Linnea greeted him with a bright smile. 'Thanks again for the bracelet, I really do love it.'

'It was my pleasure,' Draco said with a casual smile. 'Actually, I wanted to take you up on that offer to spend some time together - how about dinner?'

'I would like that,' Linnea replied with another smile. 'But why don't we make use of the time before dinner as well - unless you're busy?'

'No, I'm not busy - that would be great,' Draco replied swiftly.

'Well, then let me take my things to my dormitory and I'll meet you in ten minutes - is the Entrance Hall all right?' When Draco nodded, she gave a little smile and set off for the Hufflepuff common room. She was rather surprised to be addressed as soon as she stepped through the passageway hidden behind the barrels.

'Ah, Miss Potter, just who I was looking for,' Professor Sprout said briskly. 'I need you to come with me.'

'Is it important, Professor? I have someone waiting for me, you see.'

'It can't wait, I'm afraid,' the Herbology teacher said heavily. 'We have a meeting with the headmaster concerning the events of Halloween. Take your things up to your dormitory and come down so that we can go together.'

Linnea stared for a few moments before she obeyed. She hastily went up to her dormitory, threw her book bag unceremoniously onto her bed, and went back down to meet Professor Sprout, whom she followed out of the common room.

'Professor, what's this about, exactly? And why now after all this time?'

'Miss Granger's parents sent a letter of complaint to Professor McGonagall, demanding a meeting with the headmaster to discuss the…safety concerns that were brought up that night. As you were involved in the incident, they requested your presence, along with that of Mr Weasley and his parents.'

'Strange, Hermione didn't mention anything about it.'

'She was probably a little scared to tell you. Don't be too angry with her, Miss Potter.'

'I'm not. I just wish she knew she doesn't have to be scared to tell me things,' Linnea said sadly.

Silence followed them until they reached the headmaster's office, where a group of people was already assembled, waiting for them: Professor Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall, Ron with whom she knew to be his parents, and Hermione with her own. They all looked around as she and Professor Sprout entered. Linnea noted the grave expression on the headmaster's face, the tense one on Ron's, the slightly flustered one on Hermione's, and the disgruntled ones on her parents'.

'Ah, thank you for retrieving Miss Potter, Professor Sprout,' Professor Dumbledore said. 'I suppose that we can commence this meeting as requested by Mr and Mrs Granger.' He turned to Mr and Mrs Weasley. 'I trust that you have been made aware of the events that transpired on Halloween?'

'Yes, Headmaster,' Mr Weasley replied.

Professor Dumbledore nodded his satisfaction and said, 'As we are all familiar with what it is we are going to discuss, I think it would be best if we have Miss Granger's parents take the floor.'

Mr Granger nodded curtly and stepped forward. 'We were told about what happened on Halloween by our daughter, Hermione. We were shocked - to say the least - to hear that she had almost lost her life and that the school couldn't have been bothered with sending us a letter concerning the affair; we care for our daughter greatly, and we are not at all comfortable with having this information kept from us. We were also not pleased to hear that the one responsible for putting her in that situation did not suffer any punishment.'

'While Miss Potter may have accidentally inflicted harm on Miss Granger,' Professor Sprout said, 'she saved her life. I do not think it fair to punish her for that.'

'I'm not talking about Miss Potter but of this young man - Mr Weasley,' Mr Granger said.

'What do you mean?' Professor McGonagall frowned, her confusion mirrored in the expressions of the other professors and Ron's parents. 'Mr Weasley is the one who alerted the teachers to the situation. While he may not have joined Miss Potter in her attempt to aid Miss Granger, I hardly think that is a cause for punishment.'

'I'm afraid that you do not have all the information, Professor,' Mrs Granger said. 'Hermione told us that she failed to mention one detail to the teachers: she was in that bathroom, distressed, thanks to Mr Weasley's harassment of her.'

Everyone in the room turned to look at Ron, who was looking very fearful indeed. His mother's eyes were narrowed at him, and he was doing his best to avoid meeting her gaze.

'Harassment? Miss Granger, could you tell us exactly what happened - everything, if you please,' Professor Dumbledore said with an encouraging smile.

Hermione looked anything but encouraged as she looked around the room, her eyes widening slightly as they fell on Ron, who was now scowling at her. Her father gave her shoulder a small squeeze of comfort and she took a deep breath before she began to speak.

'W - We'd just had Charms class. I was paired with Ron and he was having trouble with the spell, so I tried to help him. He got angry and at first I couldn't understand why, but I went to apologize to him after the lesson. He was still angry and he - he said some hurtful things to me.'

'What did he tell you?' Mrs Weasley inquired, frowning down at her son.

'I'd rather not say,' Hermione mumbled.

'I think it hardly matters,' Professor McGonagall said firmly. 'A verbal attack is a verbal attack, no matter what the words were. Miss Granger, please continue.'

Looking relieved, Hermione went on, 'I was very upset, so I went to the girls' bathroom. I was crying. I stayed there all afternoon until the troll came. That's when Lin showed up to save me.'

There was a pause as the adults digested these words. Then Professor Dumbledore asked, 'Miss Granger, you mentioned that you couldn't understand why Mr Weasley was angry with you at first. Do you mean to say that you understand now?'

'W - Well, yes. It's been pointed out to me -' Hermione glanced at Linnea. '- that I'm not the best when it comes to offering my help to someone. I came to realize that I talk down to people a lot of the time, even if I don't mean to. I was angry for a long time about the things Ron said - I still am - but I know now why he was so upset. It wasn't entirely his fault.'

'Be that as it may, Miss Granger, I would think that any student would appreciate having assistance from someone as bright as yourself. No matter what the circumstances, lashing out at someone extending a helping hand is not to be excused.'

'I agree,' Professor Sprout said.

Professor Dumbledore stroked his silver beard as he pondered the situation. Finally, he said, 'Very well. In light of this information, I believe a few changes in house points are in order. Mr Weasley, ten points will be deducted from Gryffindor for causing severe distress to a fellow student -'

'I think we should make it twenty, Professor Dumbledore,' Professor McGonagall said curtly, glaring down at Ron. '_Nothing_ excuses turning against your own housemates in such a manner.'

'Very well,' Professor Dumbledore said with a nod. 'A further twenty points each will be deducted from both Mr Weasley and Miss Granger for lying to multiple teachers.'

'I think it only prudent, then, that twenty points be taken from Hufflepuff as well, Professor Dumbledore,' Professor Sprout said heavily. 'Noble as her actions in rescuing Miss Granger were, Miss Potter did also keep this information a secret from the teachers.'

Linnea could not refute that point and nodded sadly in acceptance.

'Yes, that seems fair,' Professor Dumbledore agreed. 'I think a detention is in order for each of you concerning that same offense as well. The three of you will report to Professor McGonagall tomorrow night at eight o'clock.'

The three students nodded; Hermione's parents were looking annoyed that their daughter was being punished as well, but they couldn't deny that she had indeed committed an offense that warranted it.

'Is there anything else that you wished to discuss with those assembled, Mr Granger?' Professor Dumbledore asked politely.

'Yes. As I mentioned earlier, we are not at all pleased that this was kept from us - our daughter nearly died! And from the description she gave us, it seems that it could have happened to anyone. May I ask if you received a letter from the school concerning the troll incident, Mr Weasley?'

Linnea saw Mr Weasley give Professor Dumbledore a quick glance before saying, 'Not until the new year, no.'

Mr Granger nodded before addressing Professor Dumbledore again. 'I would like to request that such incidents be reported to the parents; I would think that every parent would want to hear of the safety of their child.'

'It will be as you ask,' Professor Dumbledore said, inclining his head. 'Please accept my deepest apologies.'

As Mr Granger nodded again, his wife spoke up. 'We truly were concerned about this incident as our daughter has had a history of - of being bullied, Professor. We don't want her to go through such things again. She is happy here at Hogwarts, and has told us of the friends she has made, including Miss Potter, but I would like to request that any bullying centered on her - or any student - be stopped.'

'I think I speak for all the staff of Hogwarts when I say that we shall do our best, Mrs Granger,' Professor McGonagall said.

Hermione's mother smiled slightly before asking, 'May I ask why Miss Potter's parents aren't present? I would have liked to speak with them.'

The tension in the room shot up sharply at this statement. Mrs Granger seemed to notice, for she frowned.

'I'm an orphan, Mrs Granger,' Linnea answered with her own sad smile.

Mrs Granger's hand went to her mouth as she quickly said, 'Oh, my dear, I'm so sorry. I didn't know, please forgive me.'

'It's all right, Mrs Granger, don't worry.' In her heart, Linnea knew that it was far from all right.

'Don't you have any guardians?' Mr Granger asked, staring at her with as much sadness as his wife.

'I do. I live with my aunt and uncle, but they wouldn't come here; they can't stand the sight of me, you see.'

Everyone was staring at her as though she had suddenly sprouted wings. Linnea was shocked that she had said that so nonchalantly - she certainly hadn't meant to be so blunt; she shifted a little under the collective gazes, staring down at her shoes. She didn't see Professor McGonagall giving Professor Dumbledore the evil eye.

'Very well, I believe that we may conclude this meeting,' the headmaster said, in what was presumably an attempt to break the uncomfortable silence. 'Mr Weasley, Miss Granger, Miss Potter - do not forget your detention: tomorrow night, eight o'clock with Professor McGonagall. If it isn't too much trouble, I would like a final word with your parents and Heads of House.'

Linnea looked at Professor Sprout who gave her a small smile and a nod, gesturing towards the door beyond which was the revolving staircase. She made her way out of the headmaster's office with Ron and Hermione close behind her. The moment that they were on the other side of the gargoyle that guarded the staircase, Hermione said nervously, 'I'm sorry about that. My parents -'

'You're _sorry_?' Ron said in a voice dripping with disgust. 'You just lost Gryffindor sixty points - we're in last place thanks to you!'

'_We_ lost Gryffindor sixty points,' Hermione said, scowling heavily at the red-haired boy. 'I know that part of the blame is on me for not being honest with the teachers in the first place - though why I bothered to protect you I will never know - but none of this would've happened if you weren't such a great prat. I was going to apologize to you when you blew your top.'

Ron snorted and looked away. 'It's not like I said anything that wasn't true.'

'Ron, could we please not do this? Is there any chance that we could put this all behind us?' Linnea said in a conciliatory voice.

'I'm sorry, _Princess_, but there are some people in Hogwarts who don't take orders from you - you can count me among them.'

Linnea widened her eyes at the glare that she was now receiving from the youngest Weasley boy. It seemed that she had done something terribly offensive to him at some point, though what it was, she didn't have a clue. With no way to defuse Ron, Linnea opted to defend herself.

'I don't give anyone any orders,' she said, an edge in her voice.

'Really? What about the little sycophants you keep around you, including Granger, here?' Ron said with a heavy sneer. 'They're just a bunch of outcasts - perfect for servants, I think. But then again, you're a Hufflepuff, aren't you? It's not surprising that you'd surround yourself with leftovers, is it?'

Linnea couldn't believe what she was hearing. Was this really the same boy that she had met on the Hogwarts Express? The same boy she had thought to be kind and sweet? The same boy she had identified with when he revealed that his family wasn't at all wealthy? The same boy that she had defended from Draco's insults? Either he had changed when she wasn't looking, or he had been hiding who he really was.

He was still talking. 'Let's see…you have a Slytherin, a know-it-all, a frigid bitch and a big-mouth. Then there's you - the Girl Who Lived. What a joke. Here we all were thinking that you'd be something great - but you're just a pampered little princess who loves to have everyone in the school fawning all over her. Well, I hate to disappoint you, but there are some of us who know better.'

Linnea found that she was breathing very hard, and a glance in Hermione's direction told her that the bushy-haired witch was barely able to contain her anger. Her hand kept twitching towards her pocket, presumably where her wand was stowed away. The Hermione she had first met would never have thought of resolving a conflict with violence, but this Hermione had been listening to Pansy Parkinson for more than two months. Having already been heavily offended by Ron once, Linnea knew that Hermione wouldn't keep letting him spew whatever he wanted.

'I don't understand,' she said, praying that her Gryffindor friend wasn't stupid enough to curse Ron when there were teachers and parents just above them. 'Why are you being so mean to me? I thought we were friends.'

Ron laughed a hideous laugh devoid of any mirth.

'I only became your _friend_ -' He spoke the word with such contempt that Linnea's eyes widened even further. '- because my mother kept pestering me to. I admit, I was curious what you would be like - but I've already seen enough to know, and I don't care what my mother wants any more. You hang out with _Slytherins_, ponces like Malfoy and Parkinson - they're all just Dark wizards waiting to happen. And you're just a Hufflepuff - the weakest house in the school. They haven't done anything worthwhile for as long as anyone can remember. Says a lot about you, I reckon.'

'Well, it seems you haven't noticed,' Hermione said angrily, 'that Lin is doing the best among the first years. She earns more points for her house than the rest of us, her grades are good, she's the best at spellcasting _and_ she's on her Quidditch team - something that a first year hasn't done in a century, at least.'

'They only put her on the team because she's the _Girl Who Lived_,' Ron retorted derisively. 'All she did in that match was score two goals - most of the first years could have done at least that -'

'And I suppose that you count yourself among them as well?' Hermione growled.

She and Ron kept arguing and trading insults while Linnea kept watching Ron - but she was barely able to see him. His words were bouncing around in her head. He thought that she was being favored above the other first years because of her fame. Could he be right? Even she had been surprised to be suddenly put on the starting Hufflepuff team - she had after all, as Ron rightly said, scored only two goals. She was sure that he was right, that there were other first years that could have done the same, if not more; those who had been raised in the Wizarding world had had all their lives to fly, while Linnea had first touched a broomstick at Hogwarts. Maybe she _didn't_ deserve to be on the team…

No, that wasn't right; hadn't everyone in her house told her that she was good, that she had earned her spot? Tamsin Applebee had said that it was for the good of the team, and he had been the one that she had replaced. Leanne had told her that it hadn't been about the number of goals she had scored - it was her teamwork with Malcolm and Heidi that had turned the game around. She could remember Lee Jordan's comments about her, and how Oliver Wood had instructed the twins to keep a closer eye on her.

She might not be the best player at Hogwarts, but she had worked as hard as anyone at practises, even when she was a reserve. She had done her level best during the Hufflepuff-Gryffindor match, and Malcolm had changed his mind about her not seeing any play for the year. That spoke volumes to her.

She deserved what she had gotten - and she was certainly proud of her accomplishments. She would not let anyone take them away from her.

'Ron,' she said quietly. The two Gryffindors turned to look at her; she knew that her eyes were narrowed, and she could feel that she had successfully calmed her breathing down. 'You didn't actually want to be my friend, you were told to - that's fine. You don't like me and the company I keep - that's fine too. But don't insult me or my friends. You already know that I won't stand for it.'

'And what are you going to do about it?' Ron sneered. 'I'm not like Malfoy; I told you, I won't take orders from you.'

'Keep talking,' Linnea said, pulling out her wand from the holster up her sleeve, 'and you'll find out exactly what I'll do.' She pointed the yew wand at Ron's face, disregarding the warning bells that were going off in her mind.

They all fell silent at Linnea's obvious threat and the scene froze, presumably suspended in time. Ron stared contemptuously at her while Hermione looked back and forth between them, as though suddenly unsure whether she would like to see Ron cursed. Linnea could feel her wand twitching slightly in her hand, as though it too were sharing in her anger; the tip glowed with a sickly yellowish green light as the Pimple Jinx came to mind. She imagined Ron's face covered in smarting, pus-filled boils and the light grew brighter, as though her wand was eager to deal out punishment.

Before anything else could happen, the great stone gargoyle leapt aside and the Grangers and Professor Sprout appeared. They all came to an abrupt halt at the sight that met them.

'What's going on here?' the Head of Hufflepuff asked sharply.

'Nothing, Professor,' Linnea said slowly, lowering her wand and securing it back in its holster. 'I was just informing Mr Weasley of a few facts.'

'Five points from Hufflepuff for threatening another student, Miss Potter,' Professor Sprout said in an annoyed voice. 'Please come with me. Mr and Mrs Granger, I bid you a good evening.'

Professor Sprout swept past the first years; Linnea gave Ron one final cold look before following after her Head of House. She was assessing the damage that had been done to Hufflepuff; twenty-five points wasn't enough to knock Hufflepuff out of the lead, assuming that no one else had lost their house any more points today. She was cheered up a little at the thought, despite the anger that was flowing out of Professor Sprout - an event that caused great worry within the castle due to its rarity. As soon as they had rounded a corner, she turned to glare at Linnea and snapped, 'Miss Potter, what was that? I seem to remember you saying that you would work for the prestige of our house - is this your attempt to go back on that promise?'

'No, Professor,' Linnea said honestly. 'When we were alone that Weasley boy began insulting me and my friends. I won't let anyone do that, no matter who they are. I wasn't really going to jinx him - if I was there certainly wouldn't have been any undesirable witnesses.'

Linnea realized a moment too late what she had just let escape her mouth. She looked up at Professor Sprout, fearful of the expression that the older witch would be gazing back at her with. To her great surprise, Professor Sprout's face had gone from being angry to being impassive. She sighed.

'I commend you for sticking up for yourself and your friends, Miss Potter - that is one of the cornerstones of our house. But was it really necessary to resort to threats and violence?'

'Some people don't respond to civility,' Linnea said firmly. 'I tried to make peace with Ron before the argument really got started - I asked him if we could put the whole situation to bed. I thought he would agree, seeing as he invited me to his home for Christmas. But he let me know that he had no intention of being friendly with me any more. I wouldn't have cared much if he hadn't started in on my friends as well. I should've realized what he was really like at Halloween.'

'That doesn't excuse your pulling a wand on a defenseless person. That's another tenet of Hufflepuff House, Miss Potter - fair play,' Professor Sprout said.

'I know,' Linnea conceded. 'But no one can convince me that he didn't deserve my jinx, Professor.'

Professor Sprout sighed and said, 'Thankfully the situation didn't get out of hand. I would advise you to go to dinner, Miss Potter; I'll have a quick word with Mr Weasley.'

'Thank you, Professor.'

Linnea took off towards the Great Hall; she could feel Professor Sprout watching her but she didn't turn back. The world seemed to pass in a blur as she marched through the halls as quickly as she could. She was so angry. A small part of her was wishing that she had gone ahead and jinxed Ron - what did another detention matter? But a larger, firmer part of her knew that Professor Sprout was right: it would be extremely dirty to jinx someone who didn't even have their wand in their hand. She couldn't do that, no matter how angry she was.

But she had to do something. She couldn't let Weasley escape unscathed, not after all the things he had said. No, she needed to send a message - a message that no one insulted her friends, not without her saying something about it. The fact that she had once thought him a friend merely added salt to the wound. There was no way that she would take this lying down.

As she entered the Great Hall, her eyes swept the house tables. An angry face caught her attention - Draco Malfoy's. She suddenly remembered their plans. It only made her scowl more. She made her way over to him at the Slytherin table.

'Where were you?' he demanded as soon as she had taken a seat opposite him. 'I - wait, what's wrong? I've never seen you like this.'

'I'm sorry, Draco,' Linnea said, trying and failing to make her voice calm. 'I had a small meeting with the headmaster and a few other people.'

'With Dumbledore?' Draco asked, his eyes narrowing. 'What about?'

Linnea had been fixing a plate of food for herself but abruptly pushed it away in favor of telling Draco the story. She spoke, barely taking a breath. She was so focused on her anger that she didn't register the customary glares she always got when she sat at the Slytherin table. Draco, Vincent, Gregory and Blaise Zabini were all staring at her as she talked. When she was finished, she was made a little angrier to see that none of them felt even a fraction of her annoyance; they instead wore contemptuous, knowing looks.

'I warned you at the start of term, Lin,' Draco said. 'I warned you about associating yourself with people with the Weasleys. They're a disgrace - nothing but blood traitors. They're worthless -'

'Stop that,' Linnea said sharply. 'Ron's a great prat, and I would dearly like to hex him, but _no one_ is worthless. Don't say that about anyone in front of me.'

Linnea had been told for the better part of her life how worthless she and her mother were. She could remember the effect that the words had had on her before she discovered that she was a witch. She couldn't stand to hear someone else being subjected to that. Draco opened his mouth as though to refute her words, but one look at her face convinced him that it would be wiser to keep silent and nod.

'Thank you. I'm sorry for snapping.'

'It's fine,' Draco said with a shrug. 'So what are you going to do about Weasley?'

'I can't let him get away with it. I'm sure that Professor Sprout has probably docked more points from Gryffindor, but I want to do something myself. He can't expect to insult my friends and just walk away.'

'Professor Sprout did prevent you from cursing him,' Blaise said. 'Perhaps you could go ahead with that.'

'You should challenge Weasley to a duel after curfew then tip off Filch so that he gets caught,' Draco said enthusiastically.

Linnea frowned. 'That's low, Draco.'

'I thought you wanted to teach him a lesson?' Draco asked with a bite of anger back in his voice.

'I do, but I won't use little tricks to do it. I want to stare him in the face.'

Linnea didn't see it, but the boys were all looking at her with a little fear in their faces, as though they were suddenly afraid that they would be caught in the crossfire of whatever she would do to pay back Ron Weasley. After a long moment, Blaise said, 'Well, he was questioning your worth as a witch. Why don't you actually challenge him to a duel - a real, honest duel?'

Linnea liked that idea. She could send her message to Weasley to leave her and her friends well alone, jinx him as she so dearly wanted to, and he would have ample opportunity to defend himself; if she won the duel, he would definitely think twice about making disparaging comments about her and her friends' abilities again. She nodded to show that she agreed with Blaise's idea. Again, she didn't catch the sudden looks of glee on most of the boys' faces; despite it being his idea, Blaise still wore his customary mask of calm.

'A first year duel,' Draco said excitedly, his face lit up. 'This ought to be interesting. Make sure you embarrass Weasley as best as you can, Lin.'

'He has to actually accept the challenge first, Draco,' Linnea pointed out.

'Oh, please,' Draco scoffed. 'There's no way an idiot Gryffindor like him could turn down a challenge.'

* * *

'Why are you doing this?' Hermione hissed.

'You heard what he was saying about us,' Linnea answered hotly. 'Did you really think that I wouldn't do anything about it? No one insults my friends like that.'

'Are you sure it wouldn't be better to let the entire matter rest?' Su asked quietly.

'Come on, Ravenclaw, I'm sure you want to see Weasley wet himself almost as much as I do,' Pansy said, excitement dripping from her voice.

'He deserves it,' Leanne said firmly, sending a disgusted look at Ron, who stood on the opposite side of the room. Leanne had been as angry as Linnea when she heard the story of her and Ron's little face-off. She had brushed off his jibe about her being a loud-mouth quite easily, but couldn't get over his insults to her friends.

'You're all assuming that I'll win,' Linnea said.

They all turned to look at her incredulously and Pansy said, 'Potter, if you dare pull your punches - if you dare lose - I will hex you myself.'

'Are we going to do this or not, Potter?' Ron called.

Linnea sighed and nodded to the others. They went to stand along the walls along with some other first years who had heard of the duel and come to see it for themselves, Hermione still looking torn between her reluctance to break school rules and her desire to see Ron Weasley get his just desserts. They were using one of the larger abandoned classrooms on the second floor; it was an empty room, devoid of even desks and chairs, which suited them perfectly. A few of their classmates were stationed outside along the corridor to keep a lookout for teachers or the caretaker.

Ron and Linnea faced each other, both sending out their best glares. A dark-skinned Gryffindor named Dean Thomas stepped forward and whistled slightly to silence the murmuring audience that numbered around a dozen.

'All right, you lot, you know why we're here: Ron and Lin are going to have a little duel to settle a few of their differences. Stick to the sides of the room so you don't get cursed - they can only fire in front of each other. Don't interfere with the duel - don't even talk. We want this to be as fast and clean as possible, then we'll all get out of here before some professor or Filch comes along. Oh, and if you feel like sharing the story of what happens within your house, feel free.'

He looked at Ron. 'You ready, Ron?' The red-haired boy nodded and gripped his wand more tightly. Dean turned to Linnea and asked her the same question, to which she responded with a hard smile. He clapped his hands, said, 'Go!' and retreated to where the others were standing.

Ron raised his wand and opened his mouth just as Linnea pointed her own at the ground between them. '_Fumos!_'

A cloud of dark grey smoke erupted at where she had aimed the spell, obscuring the duelists' vision of each other. It had the desired effect; Ron hesitated before sending a silver jet of light at where she had been - but by then she had already moved to her right, where she was able to catch a glimpse of Ron around her Smokescreen Spell. She sent a Pimple Jinx at his left arm, but he jumped out of the way. The young Weasley pointed his wand at her and said, '_Titillando!_' Another silver light whizzed past her as she spun out of the way - a Tickling Hex. She almost snorted.

She sent a large shower of green sparks at Ron's face as he was getting ready to cast another spell. Not wanting to take any chances, he ducked to his right to avoid the sparks - which is exactly what Linnea had been hoping for; her wand was already pointed at where Ron would land.

'_Furnunculus!_' she cried.

This time the Pimple Jinx connected with his left hand, which he had brought up when he realized he wouldn't be able to avoid the jinx. He scowled as his hand erupted in boils.

'Can't fight straight, Potter?' he called. 'Have to use these little tricks to distract me so you can get a shot in?'

'I'm sorry that these "little tricks" are proving too much for you, Weasley,' Linnea said scathingly. 'Would you like a handicap?'

Ron scowled even harder before sending his own Pimple Jinx at her. She was easily able to dodge. She laughed; she would have to thank Tonks for drilling her in dueling. She could see that Ron was steadily getting angrier.

'_Locomotor Wibbly!_' The Jelly-Legs Curse rocketed towards her but she was again able to avoid it. She fired another set of green sparks at Ron then directed her wand to his right again, crying '_Mucus Ad Nauseam!_' The green light of the Curse of Bogies shot out of her wand but connected with nothing but stone; Ron hadn't moved from his position this time.

'Is that all you can do? The same tricks won't work again, Potter,' he sneered.

'I haven't seen anything creative from you yet, Weasley,' Linnea replied sweetly. 'I'm not at all impressed. I'll ask you again: would you like a handicap?'

Ron's face was contorted in anger as he sent another Tickling Hex at her. She ducked under it and once again cast the Smokescreen Spell. Ron turned his wand this way and that, expecting Linnea to emerge from around the cloud of smoke again - and that was his weakness. He thought that Linnea would do the same thing again - he never expected that she would throw a spell from exactly where she had been.

The red spell that shot out of her wand hit Ron full in the chest. He skidded backwards a little, but otherwise, the spell appeared to have no effect. Linnea, however, was smiling; she knew that she had already won the duel.

Ron raised his wand and tried to utter a spell - but he couldn't. His eyes widened and he tried again, but all that came from him was a strange 'Nnnnnnnnnn!'

'Surprised?' Linnea said, stepping forward. 'I just hit you with the Tongue-Tying Curse - it makes your tongue stick to the roof of your mouth for some time. You can't talk right now - meaning that you can't cast any spells any more.'

Linnea heard the other first years in the room gasp and chortle as they took in her words. Her smile widened as Ron tried in vain to cast a spell at her. She lazily pointed her wand at him and said, '_Colloshoo!_' He was so busy trying to say a spell of his own that he wasn't able to avoid the silver light that raced towards him. Once again her spell connected - and once again there was no obvious effect on Ron.

'I'm sure you're confused now,' Linnea said with another smile. 'Let me give you a hint: try walking around, Ron.'

Ron tried to move his feet - and found that he couldn't.

'That was the Stickfast Hex,' Linnea explained. 'Your shoes will be stuck to the floor for a while - approximately for as long as you won't be able to talk. So now you can't talk - meaning you can't cast spells - and you can't move - meaning that you can't dodge my spells. I can do whatever I want to you now.'

Still smiling sweetly, Linnea advanced on the defenseless boy, her wand never leaving his position. She could feel the others staring avidly at the scene before them. She came up in front of Ron and pointed her wand between his eyes; they widened, and he made no move to defend himself - the only thing he could do would be to flail his arms around, anyway.

'Don't worry, Weasley, I won't hurt you any more,' she said quietly with her smile still in place. 'But listen well, because I won't repeat this: insult me and my friends again and I won't hold back next time. I will make you literally cry for mercy in front of everyone.'

Linnea stared into his blue eyes, willing him to see that she meant every word of what she was saying. She looked down after a few moments and said dispassionately, 'Madam Pomfrey can fix your hand in a second - tell her you had an accident when brewing a Cure for Boils. You can use it yourself if you have a phial handy instead. The other jinxes will wear off in the next four minutes or so. Have a good night, Ronald.'

With that, Linnea turned away from him and stowed her wand back in place; she exited the classroom without another word, her friends close behind her and the other spectators staring after them.


	11. The Stone

The tale of her duel with Ron Weasley permeated every stone in Hogwarts castle so fast that Linnea was unnerved by how quickly news traveled within the school. There had been a member from every house present to witness the fight, and that had no doubt greatly contributed to how much of a hot topic the story became. The fact that it was the Girl Who Lived who was dueling certainly didn't inhibit its spread in any way, either. And it wasn't just first years that were excited by the whole thing; even the upper years could be heard loudly speculating about the duel in the corridors.

Linnea knew that the first-hand spectators had wasted no time in telling their housemates what had happened. As time went on, however, the stories became more and more embellished. Her favorite versions were the ones where she had supposedly chased Ron around the room as he attempted to flee her wrath while she hurled spell after spell at his behind and the one in which the duel had ended with Ron prostrating himself before her, swearing that he would do anything she wished of him for as long as they were at Hogwarts in exchange for her benevolence. Though these stories amused her to no end, she had tried to set the record straight - and found that her efforts were as futile as a ghost trying to shake someone's hand. With nothing dissuading the rumors from getting wilder as the days went by, Linnea found that she was besieged with even more looks of awe than before, whereas Ron was getting his comeuppance in the form of embarrassment.

The rumors all agreed on one thing: Linnea Potter could duel, and the young Hufflepuff wasn't afraid to put anyone who was hostile to her friends in their place. As a result, Hermione suddenly found that she was being addressed quite politely and frequently by her fellow Gryffindors - particularly the girls - and even Su had reported that her housemates were becoming more tenacious in their efforts to talk to the quiet Chinese girl, which Linnea wholeheartedly approved of. Her and Leanne's already solid standing in Hufflepuff had similarly shot through the roof, and Pansy was almost overflowing with joy; she kept laughing at the memory of a Ron robbed of his ability to speak and walk, and insisted that Linnea pass on what she had learned from Tonks to her and the other girls. She couldn't stop talking about the idea and promised to show them a few books rife with curses and hexes that they could learn.

Now that the friendship between Linnea and Ron was over, the first year Slytherins - led by Draco, of course - seemed to have declared open war on the Gryffindors - with the obvious exception of Hermione - and the red-and-gold clad students were only too happy to retaliate and showcase the legendary feud between Gryffindor and Slytherin. Linnea came to realize that their orders to befriend her from each of their parents were what had kept Ron and Draco from tearing each other apart. Now that he knew Linnea would no longer be offended if he insulted Ron, Draco held nothing back. Ron, on the other hand, didn't care what Linnea thought, and lashed back as much as he could. Rumor had it, though, that he was avoiding saying anything negative in Linnea's presence - he certainly didn't say a single word about Linnea and her small band any more; from what Hermione said, the red-haired boy was making sure that there was a great deal of distance between them. It must have been hard, seeing as they were housemates, but he was managing it nevertheless.

They had served their detentions as scheduled with Professor McGonagall. It wasn't nearly as bad as she had imagined - they had merely written lines. She was sure that the Transfiguration teacher was going easy on them seeing as how it was their first detention ever, but she was in no hurry to find out what she would have her do when the gloves came off. Her fellow Hufflepuffs hadn't batted an eye at her losing twenty points - she had earned much more than that, after all - but the Gryffindors had been visibly miffed at losing sixty points in one go and being placed last in the running for the House Cup. Percy, Ron's Prefect brother in fifth year, had started in on both Ron and Hermione as soon as they returned to Gryffindor tower - before he heard the full story. He then focused all his attention on Ron, and the Gryffindors had agreed that the almost two-hour scolding and Howler from his mother would serve as enough punishment for the time being. That didn't stop Fred and George from turning his hair black and yellow, though - an obvious nod to Linnea for trouncing him so well in their duel.

The Hufflepuff-Ravenclaw match had already passed, ending at two hundred and seventy points to twenty - a resounding victory for Hufflepuff house, who were now favorites for both the Quidditch Cup and the House Cup. To say that the Hufflepuffs were ecstatic would be an understatement - just as much as saying that many members of the other houses were in denial. They had thrown another victory party in the Hufflepuff common room and true to Tonks' prediction, Linnea drank butterbeer - a lot of butterbeer. The first years had once again retreated to the boys' dormitory and ended up playing the kissing game again. This time, the girls agreed that Megan should have Justin all to herself. Linnea kissed Ernie a lot that night, and found that she didn't mind it in the least. Leanne later asked her if she actually fancied him and Linnea answered with a laugh and a shake of her head; she explained that she was just eleven - she didn't feel that she was quite ready for boyfriends yet. Then Leanne had smirked and pointed out that she had only asked if Linnea fancied Ernie - which led to her asking why Linnea had leaped to the idea of Ernie as a boyfriend. Needless to say, she couldn't come up with an answer to that, which made Leanne very happy.

It was now the middle of second term, meaning that spring was at its finest; the grounds were covered with lush, green grass, the sky was beautifully clear with only occasional clouds, and flowers were in bloom. The girls were to be found in the library, minus Leanne, who had said she needed to take a detour before joining them. They were doing research for an essay that Professor Sprout had conveniently set all the first years - the significance and effects of lavender in magical use. They were waiting for Leanne to make her appearance so that they could actually get started writing.

They had been waiting for ten minutes when the Hufflepuff came charging towards their usual table like a hurricane. Her eyes were wide and she was sweating slightly. She collapsed into an empty chair and lay her head on the table, panting and seemingly oblivious to the looks that the others were giving her.

'I knew that this day was coming, but it's sad that you haven't even lasted a year,' Pansy whispered. 'Going bonkers, Taylor?'

'Huh?' Leanne asked loudly, staring around with her fear-filled eyes; she had apparently forgotten where she was. She gave a little squeak when she spotted Madam Pince, the librarian, glaring at her. She looked around at the others and Linnea could see that she was frightened - her trembling certainly pointed in that direction.

'Leanne, are you all right?' Su whispered in a concerned voice. Out of the corner of her eye, Linnea saw Pansy frown and give the Ravenclaw an appraising look, but she forced herself to focus on Leanne, who seemed to be having difficulty speaking.

'It - I - my - Lin -' she said hoarsely.

'For heaven's sake, Leanne, will you just _talk_ and say what it is that's bothering you?' Hermione said crossly; she had been quite anxious to get started on their homework. Her impatience did nothing to calm Leanne down - instead, she gave another squeak.

'Leanne, settle down,' Linnea said soothingly while rolling her eyes at Hermione, who retaliated by sticking her tongue out. 'I can tell you're scared of something, but you're fine here - we're in the library. The only dangerous thing here is boredom.'

Leanne was taking huge gulps of air and steadily calming down. When she was finally coherent, she said, 'Right, library - safe. Sorry, I'm just a little…wow.'

'What happened?' Su asked.

Leanne stared at her for a moment before turning to look at Linnea with an apologetic look on her face. 'I - er - I borrowed your Invisibility Cloak for a little while…'

Linnea frowned in confusion. 'I told you that you were welcome to it whenever you wanted, as long as you always return it.' A sudden thought struck her and she had difficulty keeping her voice down as she urgently asked, 'Did something happen to the Cloak?'

'No no, it's fine - it's here,' Leanne answered quickly, patting her book bag, which was bulging slightly.

'Hey, why don't I get to use the thing whenever I want?' Pansy asked in a disgruntled voice.

'Never mind that, you won't believe what I saw,' Leanne paused to make sure that they were all paying attention and said, 'I know you said I shouldn't go to the third floor corridor, Lin, but I was really curious. I thought that if I was invisible I wouldn't get hurt or caught. Well, I was right - and I saw just why Professor Dumbledore said you could die if you went there.'

'Why?' Linnea asked, choosing to put her admonishment on hold.

Leanne took a deep breath and answered, 'I went through a locked door - I used _Alohomora_ to get it open - and came into an empty room - except that there was a Cerberus there.'

The girls all gasped and stared at the still wide-eyed Hufflepuff. Linnea recalled the illustration that she had seen in _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_. She shivered.

'May I ask,' Pansy whispered, 'why you aren't in its stomach right now?'

'Like I said - the Cloak helped. It could smell me, but it couldn't see me, so it was really confused and didn't attack. I didn't feel much like keeping it company, so I re-locked the door and ran all the way here.'

'So you're completely fine?' Hermione asked urgently.

'Yes, I'm all right,' Leanne confirmed.

'Because it didn't see you,' Pansy pointed out. 'The next time you want to do something stupid, Taylor, bring one of us along so that we can pull you out.'

'Thank you for caring, Parkinson,' Leanne retorted, trying and failing to sound scathing.

'It's not funny,' Su said. 'You could've seriously _died_, Leanne.' Linnea caught Pansy looking at Su once more, but again decided to ignore it.

'Give me some credit - I did think to put on the Invisibility Cloak,' Leanne said, though her tone suggested that she fully agreed with Su and Pansy. 'I was right about the stone Professor Quirrell wants being in there, though; the Cerberus was standing on a trapdoor.'

'The stone whose significance we still don't know,' Linnea said in a disgruntled voice; even after discussing it with Su and Hermione, they still had no idea what kind of stone was being protected within the castle. Since they had no further information, their research into the subject hadn't turned up anything useful - they didn't know exactly what they were researching, after all.

'It doesn't matter,' Pansy said happily. 'A Cerberus would rip dear Professor Quirrell's head off if he went anywhere near it.'

'Every magical creature has some sort of weakness, even a Cerberus,' Hermione countered, shaking her head. 'He'll find some way to get past it sooner or later.'

'His best bet would be asking whoever owns the Cerberus how to get past it,' Su mused.

'Owns?' Leanne repeated, confused.

'It's a dog - a guard dog, in fact. It must belong to someone; would you use a creature that you had no way of controlling to protect something? What if you needed to retrieve it for some reason?'

'Okay,' Linnea said slowly, nodding in acceptance of Su's logic, 'so the Cerberus belongs to someone. But who?'

'Hagrid,' Pansy said at once.

_Of course_, Linnea thought with a smile.

'Let's go talk to him - he can tell us more!' Leanne actually stood up and began walking away; Linnea grabbed her hand.

'Why don't we finish our homework first? Just this one Herbology essay and we'll be caught up.'

'But I'm curious,' Leanne whined.

'Yes, and your curiosity almost got you mauled by a three-headed dog,' Hermione sniffed, dipping her quill in ink and beginning to write. 'I agree with Lin - homework first, solving mysteries later.'

Leanne sighed and gloomily sat back down.

* * *

'It's such a gorgeous day,' Leanne said blissfully, closing her eyes and taking in the smells of spring. 'We're doing our homework outside next time - we can't waste the season.'

They were walking across the grounds towards Hagrid's cabin. They could see that most students had much the same idea as Leanne; the grass was dotted with their bodies as they relaxed under the pleasantly warm sunlight. Linnea could see a few others taking their brooms through the air in loops and hoops around one another; she was tempted to join them, but reminded herself that they had to go meet Hagrid.

'We'll stop to enjoy the day later, Leanne,' she assured her best friend. 'Right now let's hope that Hagrid's in his hut; he's been a little scarce recently.'

'Five of us and one of him,' Su mused. 'He'll think we're interrogating him.'

'That's exactly what we're going to do, Ravenclaw,' Pansy said with a frown. 'How else are we going to get him to talk? We don't have much feminine charm yet, so that's out -'

'Speak for yourself, Slytherin,' countered Su.

Pansy, far from fazed, snorted and pressed on. 'We have to bombard him with our questions; he seems the type that doesn't do well under pressure. And I don't see why you're worried about us outnumbering him; he's still bigger than us piled together.'

'It'll still be difficult getting the information,' Hermione said. 'I'm sure Professor Dumbledore ordered him not to say anything, and Hagrid speaks very highly about him; he's very loyal to Dumbledore.'

'Another Dumbledore sycophant, brilliant.' Leanne said this in a whisper, but it was nevertheless caught by the other girls, who gave her questioning looks that she conveniently didn't seem to notice.

'Perhaps we should tell him our suspicions about Professor Quirrell,' Su said. 'I'm sure he'd be more willing to divulge information if he believed this stone of theirs was in danger.'

'That's a great idea!' Linnea beamed at her Ravenclaw friend, who gave a small, shy smile in return.

'You've been a lot more talkative since we came back for second term, Ravenclaw,' Pansy observed. 'At least now you're good for something other than talking about classes.'

Su sighed but didn't say anything else, which got Hermione and Leanne glaring at Pansy while Linnea fought the urge to roll her eyes at the Slytherin. They walked on in silence until Hagrid's hut was just feet away from them; even as they got closer, they saw a plume of fire set his curtains - which were strangely drawn - ablaze, before the gamekeeper's huge silhouette appeared and put the fire out. They stopped.

'What was that?' Linnea wondered aloud.

'Probably some accident,' Leanne shrugged; she went up to Hagrid's cabin and banged on the door, the others right behind her.

The door opened about an inch and Hagrid's face appeared in the crack, looking down at them in surprise. They were assaulted by the smell of things burning, which included a small part of Hagrid's beard.

''Ello there, Lin,' the gamekeeper said with a very forced smile. 'Good ter see yeh - an' yer friends. I appreciate the visit, but I'm a little busy at the moment, so -'

'Hagrid, what was that?' Hermione asked sharply; they turned to look at her and saw that she was squinting at the space between Hagrid's massive legs. 'I think I saw a - a _tail_.'

'A tail?' Pansy asked with wonder - then she smirked and laughed lightly. 'My my my, Gamekeeper - that tail wouldn't belong to something that happens to spit _fire_, does it?'

The others all frowned at this question before Leanne gasped and whispered conspiratorially, 'Hagrid, you don't have a _dragon_ in there, do you?'

'What? No, o' course not!' The look on the giant's face screamed otherwise - as did the crashing and odd little shriek that came from the inside of his cabin.

'Well, isn't this a wonderful development?' Pansy said with obvious joy - and a little bit of malice. 'We won't have to bombard him with questions; we can just threaten him!'

'What?' Hagrid said, his jaw dropping.

'Pansy,' Linnea said warningly.

'What?' Pansy retorted, her eyes widening in mock innocence. 'The man has a dragon in there - which is illegal. This is incredibly useful information -'

'I don't think now is the time for a Slytherin perspective on things, Pansy,' Leanne said hotly.

'It's the perfect time,' Pansy said stubbornly. 'We were coming down here to ask him questions and we were going to give him our own information in exchange for his - but now we don't have to; we can blackmail him and make him tell us what we want to know while keeping everything else to ourselves! It's more than a fair trade if you ask me - simple knowledge in exchange for a pass on going to Azkaban. We're too conspicuous out here so let us in or I'll go straight to Dumbledore. Actually, I think a letter to my parents would prove more useful…' Pansy's voice trailed off, but even the biggest idiot in the world would understand the thinly veiled threat.

'Alrigh', alrigh' - jus' give me a minute.'

Hagrid closed the door and there was some scuffling and more shrieking. A moment's silence later and he opened the door again, gesturing them to come in.

The dragon lay bound and thrashing in a corner, glaring at them with yellow eyes. It was about five feet long and jet black, with bronze-colored spikes running all the way down its back and leathery wings. Smoke coiled up out of its nostrils as it snorted.

'Everyone, meet Norbert,' Hagrid said proudly, gazing at the dragon with great affection; he didn't seem to notice the first years' tense and horrified stares.

'H - How long have you had…Norbert living with you, Hagrid?' Hermione squeaked.

'Abou' three weeks, I reckon,' Hagrid answered thoughtfully. 'They grow mighty fast in the firs' few months, dragons.'

'And what were you planning to do when it became bigger than your house?' Pansy said, all traces of her usually sneering voice gone; she was eying the dragon apprehensively, and it in turn did not seem to particularly like her. It was staring at the Slytherin as though seriously considering taking a bite out of her. Hagrid, however, seemed to miss the question and set about making tea, telling them to take a seat where they could. They did - as far away from the dragon as possible. Hagrid's armchairs were vast, big enough for himself; they had no trouble squeezing themselves together to avoid the fire-breather. When he had given them their tea in large mugs, Hagrid sat in the chair facing them.

'I was hopin' yeh'd visit sometime, Lin,' he said. 'I don' know yer friends, though.'

'Hagrid, this is Leanne Taylor, Hermione Granger, Su Li and Pansy Parkinson.'

Hagrid's expression visibly darkened at the name "Parkinson", but he managed to greet all of them kindly.

'So what's this abou'?' he asked. 'Yeh were sayin' somethin' abou' asking me some questions.'

'Yes, we have something we'd like to ask you,' said Linnea. She took a deep breath before saying hastily, 'We know that you brought the thing you took from Gringotts the day we were there here at Hogwarts - we also know that it's some kind of stone. What we want to know is what this stone exactly is.'

'I though' I told yeh not ter mention it ter anyone, Lin,' said Hagrid.

Linnea shrugged, refusing to feel guilty. 'I felt uncomfortable not sharing it with my friends.'

'Well I can't tell yeh abou' the stone, I'm sorry,' the giant said firmly.

'Are you forgetting,' Pansy said slowly, 'that we know you have an illegal dragon hiding in your hut? Tell us what you know or I swear I'll go singing to my parents, and they'll make sure that the Ministry will be banging down your door this time tomorrow. They'll have you at two counts, at least - possession of a dragon egg and keeping a dragon for a pet. I don't think you being the gamekeeper of a school filled with children will help matters any, either.'

They all looked around at Pansy, who was suddenly wearing a calm expression, staring steadily at Hagrid, who was growling at her; Linnea was sure that if Hagrid had been growling at _her_, she would be cowering in her chair.

'This girl is yer _friend_, Lin?' Hagrid asked, every word dripping with disbelief.

'She's a little rough around the edges,' Linnea mumbled; far from offended, Pansy smirked. 'Just please tell us, Hagrid; I don't think I can actually stop Pansy, short of doing a Body-Bind on her.'

Hagrid glared at the Slytherin girl for a long time before turning back to Linnea with a sigh.

'Fine, I'll tell yeh. It's a Philosopher's Stone.'

They all frowned at their ignorance.

'Would you be so kind as to tell us what that is?' Pansy asked coolly.

Hagrid glared at her once more before saying in a resigned voice, 'Do yeh know what alchemy is?'

'Yes,' Hermione and Su said at once. When they noticed the others' increasingly frustrated faces, Hermione explained, 'Alchemy is a practice that lies somewhere between Muggle chemistry and Transfiguration, though it predates the latter; it's basically about turning one chemical element into another.'

'Turning one thing into another? That's sounds just like Transfiguration, Hermione,' Leanne said, frowning.

'No, it isn't,' Hermione insisted, shaking her head. 'Alchemy dealt with only the natural elements, whereas Transfiguration deals with everything in the known world, including living things. Alchemy used a combination of Muggle science and magic to obtain its results, and it was successful for a while, until it hit a few blocks: turning other elements into gold, silver and copper. It proved impossible. When Transfiguration spells were discovered as an alternate means of achieving alchemical results with the added benefit of greater flexibility, the study and practise of alchemy was abolished.'

Linnea stared. 'How do you know all this?'

'The library,' Su answered in almost a whisper.

'I go to the library a lot too and I've never seen so much as a letter about alchemy.'

'That's because the only extra reading you do is for homework and on practical spellwork, Lin,' Hermione said as though explaining the obvious. 'Alchemy doesn't fall under any sort of charming - it isn't a curse, a jinx, a hex or even a form of Transfiguration; it's a chemical process that finds out why the elements behave the way they do and ways to make them turn and behave like each other.'

'Could we get back to the original explanation, please?' Leanne asked with a sigh.

'Sorry,' Hermione said hastily. 'Like I was saying, alchemy was abolished when it was found to be unable to produce gold, silver or copper and when Transfiguration was noted to be more flexible. The first few Transfiguration Masters tried to achieve what alchemy failed to - and they couldn't do it, either. It later became an established fact that it is theoretically impossible to transfigure those specific metals.'

'What about conjuring them?' Pansy asked.

'That isn't possible, either,' Su said abruptly. 'Think about it - if any wizard could conjure or transfigure gold, wouldn't everyone be swimming in Galleons by now?'

'And if they could conjure silver, they would have an endless supply of Sickles,' Linnea mused, nodding. 'But what about copper?'

'Bronze is made from mixing copper and some other metal; that's why the Wizarding world chose gold, silver and bronze as the cornerstone of their economy - no wizard can make these things for themselves.'

'That's nice,' Leanne said in a hot voice; apparently she didn't much like long explanations. 'But what does this all have to do with this "Philosopher's Stone"?'

Hermione shrugged and they all looked back at Hagrid, who looked disappointed, as though he had hoped that they had forgotten he was there.

'Well, I don't know as much as Hermione, here, but it sounds all righ',' he said gruffly. 'But the point is, someone _did_ find a way ter create gold - Nicholas Flamel. He was an alchemist, see, an' a wizard too. He came up with somethin' - the Philosopher's Stone - that can turn any metal into gold.'

'That's quite the magical achievement,' Su said with wonder written all over her face. 'Why wasn't he mentioned in any of the books Hermione and I read?'

'Professor Dumbledore had books that mentioned Flamel removed from the library,' Hagrid said.

'Wouldn't it have made more sense to remove all books that mention alchemy instead?' Pansy asked, her eyebrows raised.

'No, it wouldn't,' Hermione said. 'It's part of the history of Transfiguration, which is on the first year curriculum - it'll probably be on our exams.'

'I haven't heard Professor McGonagall mention anything about this,' Linnea said with worry.

'That's because Professor McGonagall doesn't teach Magical History,' Hermione said testily. 'Professor Binns mentioned that we could read about it in _A History of Magic: A Secondary Guide_ in our third lesson, if I'm not mistaken.'

'Really? All I hear from him is "goblin this" and "goblin that" - before I completely black out,' Leanne grumbled.

'He makes allusions to the curriculum now and then, you just have to listen - but obviously, none of you do.'

'Then why haven't you ever mentioned it in our study sessions?' Linnea demanded incredulously.

'Because every time Su and I have mentioned studying Magical History, you three have avoided us like the plague - so we ended up studying it alone.'

Linnea scowled at her Gryffindor and Ravenclaw friend, even though she knew that she only had herself to blame.

'So Dumbledore is protecting the Philosopher's Stone for Nicholas Flamel, and it has the power to make whoever has it as much money as they could possibly want,' Leanne summarized.

'That's not all the Stone can do,' Hagrid said abruptly; he immediately looked like he regretted it when the girls turned their attention back to him.

'What d'you mean? Is there something else the Stone can be used for?'

When Hagrid didn't answer, Pansy said, 'Remember our arrangement, Gamekeeper.'

That got Hagrid glaring again, but he eventually sighed and said, 'I don' know how it works, but the Stone can be used ter make a potion - the Elixir of Life.'

'I've never heard of it,' Linnea said.

'That's because using the Philosopher's Stone is the only way to get it. The Elixir of Life makes someone immortal.'

They all gasped. _Immortality_, Linnea thought, her eyes wide. She pondered the implications - what could she do given all the time in the world? Her mind was reeling. She imagined what it would be like to watch ages pass, to be a part of every facet of human history. She almost didn't catch Leanne asking, 'You're saying that there exists a potion that would make me live forever if I managed to get myself a glass?'

'Not exactly, no,' Hagrid said; he seemed resigned to finish explaining everything to them. 'Yeh have ter keep drinkin' the potion ter stay alive. Once yeh take it, yeh have ter keep taking it or yeh'll die, even if yeh aren't at the point where yer natural life is over. A lot of things in magic have a price, see, an' fer somethin' like immortality, the price is really high. Fer the Stone, yer made ter be completely dependent on it.'

'That's why Flamel gave it to Professor Dumbledore to protect, isn't it? He knows that there's someone after the Stone, and if they manage to steal it, he'll die.'

Hagrid nodded gravely in response to Hermione's theory.

'So the Stone can give you enough life and money to make you sick,' Leanne revised, gazing off into space with a dreamy expression. She snapped her eyes back to the giant and asked, 'Hagrid, is the Stone one of a kind - is it the only one in existence?' Hagrid nodded again.

'I don't understand,' Linnea said slowly. 'If creating a Philosopher's Stone is possible, then why don't other people do it?'

'You're forgetting what we told you - the practice of alchemy was abolished centuries ago. There are no more texts or instructions in the subject, so even if you _did_ want to pick it up, you would have to start from scratch, and precious few wizards are capable or willing to do that,' Hermione said.

'So why not ask Flamel to cough up the recipe?' Pansy asked.

'If he's an alchemist, then he's probably very old - six hundred years old at least, as the last recorded attempt at alchemy seemed to be around that time. I can't imagine someone like that staying in one place very long. And remember: he could become a different person with each passing generation. No one would be able to recognize him unless he revealed himself to them. So no one would be able to know _who_ to ask to teach them to make a Philosopher's Stone, even if they did know that it's possible,' answered Su.

They lapsed into silence as they digested her explanation. It was certainly more than plausible.

'So Professor Quirrell wants to make himself rich and immortal. It seems a little boring when you say it out loud; that's practically what every bad guy in every story wants,' Leanne said with a sigh.

'Professor Quirrell?' Hagrid repeated, looking alarmed. 'What are yeh talkin' abou'?'

They told Hagrid that it was Professor Quirrell who had broken into Gringotts and failing that was trying to steal the Stone from the third floor corridor. Instead of looking shocked or outraged, however, he scoffed.

'There's no way. Professor Quirrell wouldn't try ter steal the Stone - he's one o' the teachers _protecting_ it!'

'Just like your three-headed dog is?'

Hagrid gaped then demanded, 'How do you know about Fluffy?'

'I met him,' Leanne said with another sigh. 'Such a lovely dog, Hagrid, would you - wait, _Fluffy_? Really?'

Hagrid opened his mouth to answer but was forestalled by Hermione, who asked, 'Hagrid, you said that Professor Quirrell was one of the teachers protecting the Stone. Do you know what kind of protection he gave?'

'I really shouldn't tell yeh that,' Hagrid said, shaking his head.

Pansy sighed and said, 'Seriously? How many times do I have to remind you -?'

'I won't be threatened in my own house, Parkinson,' Hagrid said darkly.

'Is that so?' Pansy asked, quirking an eyebrow. 'Well then I suppose I'll be sending an owl tonight.'

The two glared at each other. Linnea was starting to worry that hexes might soon start flying. She was just thinking that bringing Pansy may have been a mistake when Hagrid turned to her and said, 'I'd be more careful abou' choosin' yer friends, Lin. How do yeh know she won't be threatening _yeh_ some day?'

'She wouldn't,' Linnea protested at once, glancing at Pansy; the Slytherin did nothing to support that statement.

'I'd appreciate it if yeh didn't bring her here if yeh want ter visit again,' Hagrid said flatly, glaring once more at Pansy, who didn't appear at all upset by his words. He went on to say, 'Professor Quirrell provided trolls ter protect the Stone. Now, if yeh don't mind, I have some work ter do, so I'll see yeh later.'

The look on his face convinced Linnea that that was a very good idea; he had clearly had enough. She thanked him for the tea, bid him good luck with the dragon and hastily followed her friends outside and back up to the castle. Once she was sure that no one else was close enough to hear, she grabbed Pansy by the arm, turned her around and asked, 'What was that?'

Pansy shrugged and said, 'Didn't I say this before? He had information that we wanted that he wouldn't be willing to give us - so I threatened him.'

'Hagrid's my friend - he's the one who introduced me to the Wizarding world,' Linnea said, her eyes narrowed.

'I know,' Pansy replied. 'That's why I was bluffing.'

'How am I supposed to be sure of that?' asked Linnea, her grip tightening on Pansy's arm.

'There's no way to be absolutely sure, of course, but I've wanted to be close to you for all this time; don't you think that I might find ratting out one of your friends to be counter-productive? I threatened him so that he could tell us what we wanted to know, nothing more - that's the truth.'

'And if he called your bluff?' Leanne prompted.

'He wouldn't,' Pansy answered without a hint of doubt. 'I'm a Slytherin, and like most of the Wizarding world, Hagrid believes that I'm a Dark witch in training; he probably thinks that reporting his possession of a dragon is the least that I would do to him.'

'I can't argue with your results, but threatening him wasn't a very nice thing to do,' Hermione said, shaking her head. 'And he hates you now.'

Pansy scoffed. 'Nice? Don't suddenly go daft on me, Granger - what else would you expect from me? As for being hated, I'm well used to it.'

'Who hates you?' Su asked curiously.

'It was just a figure of speech,' Pansy quickly replied. They noticed her pale slightly as she said this and she may have realized, for she suddenly turned away. 'I'm going up to the castle; going to enjoy the rest of the day like Potter was talking about. I'll see you all at dinner, yeah?'

Without waiting for a reply, she hurried away. The girls looked at each other, eyebrows raised.

'What's wrong with her?' Leanne asked.

'I'm not sure,' Linnea said worriedly. 'I think Su's question may have struck some chord, though.'

* * *

_That was close_, Pansy thought as she collapsed on her bed and hugged her pillow; she had almost mistakenly revealed the troubles that being friends with Hermione Granger had brought her. They had thankfully lessened in recent days, and she had Potter to thank for that; her duel with the Weasley boy had made her housemates think twice about openly showing their distaste for her, and she could not be more grateful.

Her standing in Slytherin was still terrible, but she was at least able to sleep with both eyes closed now. She shut them and asked herself, for what she was sure was the thousandth time, why she had taken herself through so much trouble. She already had an answer - one that she had been avoiding as best as she could.

She had grown to like Potter and her gang, which she was now undoubtedly a part of. There was a feeling of camaraderie within the group even as they habitually poked at each other's nerves. Pansy knew that if they had the slightest inkling of how life in Slytherin had been for her, Potter would once again flip her lid and go out to hex Draco, Granger would run off to Professor McGonagall, Li would remain silent and stare at her with worry and Taylor would go ballistic and storm off in a screaming rampage. They had no idea, of course, but the fact that she was so sure about how they would react told her just how close she had gotten to them - and how much closer she would continue to get. Not for the first time, Pansy felt a little warm to know that she had _friends_ looking out for her; the fact that they all happened to be capable witches was fast becoming an added bonus.

She heard a door open and a moment later a clear voice asked, 'Pansy, are you asleep?'

She opened her eyes and they fell upon Daphne, her friend for as long as she could remember. Pansy had always been a little jealous of her looks; she had straight, long blond hair and blue eyes as clear as crystal. She was very pretty, even at eleven. She was staring down at Pansy, who refused to uncurl herself off the bed.

'You look happy,' Daphne observed. 'The bullying has stopped more or less, so I suppose it's to be expected.' She went to sit on her own bed, which was right next to Pansy's, and looked back at her. 'So you're feeling better?'

'Yes. Like you said, it's to be expected now that the bigoted prats are leaving me alone.'

Daphne shook her head. 'I still can't understand why you let yourself go through all that. Is being friends with Potter really worth it?'

'It's not just Potter,' Pansy said with a sigh. 'The others are all right as well. They're good witches, all of them.'

'Taylor doesn't seem to be anything special,' Daphne said with a frown.

'You'd be surprised; her grades aren't bad, actually, and she's frighteningly good at Astrology. Thankfully she doesn't bore us by talking about it all the time - not like Potter with Charms.'

'So you're really friends with them all - no alliances or plots. You genuinely like them?'

'It took me a while to admit it even to myself but yes, I do,' answered Pansy.

Daphne smiled slightly. 'I never would have believed it of you. You actually _want_ friends now.'

'Hey, you're my friend, aren't you?' Pansy pouted.

'Only because we've known each other all our lives,' countered Daphne; she was still smiling. 'But I was really worried about you. I've never known you to be so stubborn; you wouldn't stop being friends with those girls despite what it's done to you in Slytherin.'

'It's Granger that they had a problem with,' Pansy corrected.

'Yes, how can you stand that girl?' Daphne asked incredulously, wrinkling her nose.

'She's toned everything down now; she isn't nearly as obnoxious as she was when she first came here, I'm sure you've noticed.' When Daphne nodded, Pansy continued, 'And she's all about studying, that one; she's the main reason my grades have been the way they are.'

'So she was worth it then?'

'_They_,' Pansy pointed out. 'And so far, yes, I think so. My first year hasn't been as wonderful as it could have been, but it's good to know that I now have four people watching my back in all possible directions.'

'It must be nice,' Daphne said, a smirk playing across her face. 'Well, I'm glad that things are looking up for you. I was afraid of what I would tell your mother come the end of the year.'

'Watching your own back first and foremost, I see,' Pansy joked.

'Always,' Daphne said with another smirk. Then she asked, 'So will you tell them about how Draco was leading the charge against you? I'm sure Potter would be very interested in that, seeing as how he always seems to be near her nowadays.'

'No,' Pansy answered sadly. 'Potter would only get mad again and challenge Draco to a duel - which she would win, obviously. And you know Draco - an ego the size of Hogwarts itself. Telling Potter would only upset the peace we have right now.' The two girls lapsed into silence before a sudden thought struck Pansy and she smiled. 'Hey, I could introduce you to her if you like - get more eyes for your back. I'm sure the girls would be more than happy to expand the circle; we'd be able to hang out more as well.'

'I don't know,' Daphne said doubtfully. 'Do you really think we would get along?'

'_I_ get along with them - for the most part, anyway. Doesn't that tell you all you need to know? There's no need to worry about the rest of the house any more, either; they're too scared Potter will murder them in their sleep if they raise so much as a finger in my direction.'

Daphne laughed and said, 'I'll think about it; I wouldn't want to make anything awkward.'

Pansy rolled her eyes. 'Oh, please, you're just scared - still watching your back. Makes me wonder if you pay any attention to your front.' A pillow promptly flew at her face and she laughed. 'Don't worry, Daphne, I guarantee you will be well rewarded for taking the risk; you wouldn't believe the things that we've found out together.'

'Like what?' Daphne asked, raising an eyebrow.

'Okay, you cannot tell anyone what I'm about to tell you - that includes information trading, alright? If I hear someone else talking about this, I'll come straight for you.'

Daphne raised both eyebrows now. 'Wow, it must be _very_ sensitive information.'

'It is,' Pansy assured her. 'So, do you promise?' When Daphne nodded, Pansy sat up and smiled at the tiny Slytherin. 'Brilliant. Now - do you have any idea what's staying in the forbidden third floor corridor?'


	12. Loyalties

Linnea was scowling.

The other Hufflepuff girls and the mirror she was staring into were snickering at her, and she didn't like it one bit. Having been away from Aunt Petunia for most of the year, she had been, to her delight, able to grow her hair out - it now reached the base of her neck. What wasn't so delightful was how messy it had gotten in its length - something that she now knew she inherited from her father. Her strands haphazardly overlapped each other, sticking up and out in many places. She was presently trying to tame it with a brush, determined to have the straight, long locks that she had often dreamed of. Needless to say, she was failing - and laughably so - hence the girls' and the mirror's guffawing. Her hair simply refused to cooperate and did whatever it fancied. When she'd finally had enough, Linnea cast the hairbrush away with a growl which resulted in renewed peels of mirth. Her scowl deepened.

'Now I know how Hermione feels,' she muttered, glaring at the mirror that was outright roaring with laughter.

'No, you don't,' Hannah said between rocking giggles that had her clutching her ribcage. 'I hear Hermione doesn't really care about her hair, so I'm guessing you must feel much worse.'

Linnea snarled, which got the laughter to become even louder. She frowned at her reflection in disappointment. _There goes my dream of having beautiful hair_, she thought sadly.

'Stop looking as if you're thinking about cutting it all off,' Megan chuckled. 'It honestly looks good on you.'

'Really?' Linnea asked doubtfully, turning her head this way and that.

'Really,' Megan confirmed. 'We should hurry to the Great Hall - we'll talk more about your pretty little head on the way.'

The girls collected their things and made their way out of their dormitory. The boys were once again waiting for them in the common room; it had become something of a tradition for the first year Hufflepuffs.

'What are you all looking so happy about?' Justin inquired curiously after a smile in Megan's direction.

'They're laughing at my hair,' Linnea answered miserably; the others were trying too hard not to laugh to answer Justin's question.

'Why, what's wrong with it?' Ernie asked, giving the deep red locks an appraising look.

'It's terrible!' Linnea whined, her hands going to the top of her head; it couldn't possibly make things worse, could it?

'What are you talking about? It looks fine to me.'

'But it's so messy!'

'It suits you.'

Linnea switched from despair to suspicion in a flash. 'Ernie, are you trying to tell me that _I'm_ messy?' she asked dangerously, her eyes narrowed.

'Er…no, not at all - I just think that it looks good on you - you're the only girl who could wear it so well.'

Linnea brightened. 'Really?'

'Yeah,' Ernie said uncertainly, wary of her lightning-fast switch in emotions.

'Thanks, Ernie!' she chirped happily. She almost skipped to the common room exit before turning back and calling, 'We should get moving or we'll be late.'

Linnea led the way to the Great Hall, humming tunelessly. She couldn't hear them, but the boys were asking if she was okay, while the girls were congratulating Ernie on his narrow escape of possibly getting hexed. When they got to the Hall, where breakfast was in full swing, she and Leanne headed straight for the Ravenclaw table, where Hermione and Su were already seated. They had their books open and were trying to read and have a hearty meal at the same time - with as much success as Linnea had had in brushing her hair. Hermione's fork was halfway to her mouth but she clearly had no intention of eating the sausage; Su kept raising and lowering her cup of tea without even taking a sip.

'Good morning,' Linnea greeted. The two gave no indication that they had heard her or noticed their presence. She caught Leanne's eye and mouthed something to the black-haired girl. They both smiled as they pulled out their wands and said, '_Wingardium Leviosa!_' The fork and cup instantly flew out of the now startled girls' grips.

'Oh! Hello, how long have you been there?' Hermione asked, her eyes wide.

'We just arrived,' Linnea answered, letting the fork fall gently back into Hermione's hand. 'You two should calm down.'

'How can we calm down? The exams are starting this Monday!' Hermione exclaimed almost hysterically.

'I know,' Linnea said slowly, 'but when you get to the point where you don't notice when someone sits next to you, you know you need a little breather. What if I'd been a serial killer?'

'Then I'd be dead - but still ready for my exams,' Hermione answered with a roll of her eyes.

Linnea laughed a little at that then proceeded to give Hermione her most coaxing smile. 'Come on, let's at least enjoy breakfast and talk - we still have our evening study sessions, right?'

'I suppose,' Hermione answered grudgingly, closing her book; Su looked a little sad but said nothing and followed suit.

Much of the week had passed in this way; Hermione and Su were both eager to be fully prepared for the coming exams but both had shown an unhealthy loss in appetite. Their demeanors had also changed a lot. Hermione was now skittish and could often be found biting her nails whereas Su had gone back to her "talk of nothing else but academics" self. She, Leanne and Pansy had had to forcibly tear their books out of their grasps on more than once occasion, and drag them out of the library as they seemed not to care about curfew any more. Linnea could understand the two girls a little - Hermione, being Hermione, could only measure her success at Hogwarts based on her grades and as a Ravenclaw, Su was presumably the same, though she never gave any actual indication towards this.

Time had once again flown by within the castle; Linnea couldn't account for where much of it had gone. Nothing exciting had happened since they discovered Hagrid keeping a dragon in his cabin. She had often sent notes to Hagrid asking how he was getting on, thinking that he wouldn't much appreciate an impromptu visit after what happened during the last one - and he completely ignored them, without so much as an acknowledgment of receiving them. Linnea honestly couldn't blame him; Pansy was, after all, her friend, and she had brought her to Hagrid's, where the eleven-year-old had proceeded to successfully threaten the giant who was at least five times her senior. She persisted in sending the notes, however, and hoped that Hagrid would be able to forgive her.

The Hufflepuffs of the group had held belated birthday celebrations for Hermione and Su alongside Pansy's own birthday. Hermione's was in September, and had passed before the girls' friendships had truly formed, meaning that she had had literally no one to celebrate with. Su's was in December, and she only told them after their resultant pestering when they discovered that Hermione hadn't had a celebration. They had happily sent an order for a huge twelve Galleon cake that they had absolutely no hope of finishing, bought gifts for their three friends and staged a very loud singing of "Happy Birthday" at breakfast, which had the desired effect of embarrassment and laughter. When they threatened to get the Hufflepuffs back, Linnea and Leanne simply scoffed; their birthdays were during the summer, and were therefore safe. They had shared the cake with as many of the other students as they could manage, including Daphne Greengrass, who Pansy forcefully introduced to them. She was nervous about being at the Gryffindor table - and around their little band, Linnea could tell - and hastily begged off making more noise with them after wishing her friend a happy birthday and giving her a gift; she wasn't aware that it was a celebration for three.

Such happy moments within the castle were being put on hold thanks to the upcoming exams, of course. Every lesson was now devoted to revision, with many of the professors - most notably Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape - breathing down their necks to manage at least an "E" in their subjects. The Wizarding world used different scoring for their exams - the passing grades were "O" for "Outstanding", "E" for "Exceeds Expectations" and "A" for "Acceptable", whereas the failing grades were "P" for "Poor", "D" for "Dreadful" and "T" for "Troll". Having had first-hand experience with the intelligence level of a troll, Linnea was sure she could imagine the kind of marks that would be associated with the lowest grade. She did find the "E" grade a little strange; she thought that if Hermione, for example, got an "E", then she would have actually fallen _below_ expectations. She kept this to herself, however, as she didn't want to put pressure on Hermione, since she was doing exceptionally well on that front.

They spent the rest of the week revising as best as they could. Though sure that she would do reasonably well, Linnea was still a little nervous when Monday came. Their first exam was Charms - which, according to her friends, she was the best at - so she wasn't nearly as jittery as some of the other first years. Confident as she was in her wandwork, however, Linnea was still anxious about the theory part of the exams, which - again according to her friends, though with her own agreement - was her weakness. Nevertheless, she kept herself as calm as possible when she took her seat in the exam room alongside her classmates. Professor Flitwick was supervising and when he signaled them to begin, she hastily turned her paper over.

_Question One: State a) the incantation for the basic Fire Charm and b) how the Fire Charm may be modified to produce various forms of fire, giving appropriate examples and their specific effects_

The Halloween incident came back to her. She smiled as she wrote her answers down.

_Question Two: State a) the proper wrist movement and b) incantation for a basic Levitation Charm and c) any factors that may contribute towards or hinder the success of a Levitation Charm_

_This isn't so bad_, Linnea thought happily as her quill glided across the parchment. Most of the questions were very much related to practical spellwork, and she found that she could answer them reasonably well without much fuss. She was feeling quite satisfied with herself by the time their hour-and-a-half was up and Professor Flitwick called for them to stop writing; she left the room with a huge smile on her face.

'That wasn't nearly as dreadful as I imagined,' she said to Pansy, who had conveniently ended up next to her as she went to lean against the wall of the Charms corridor; they would now wait a while to take the practical part of the exam. The Slytherin sneered.

'Speak for yourself, Charms girl. I'm sure you're all happy because a lot of the questions were about casting spells.'

'Yep,' Linnea confirmed with a flash of her teeth.

'Hey, how'd you do?' Hermione asked nervously when she reached them, Su and Leanne right on her tail. 'I'm not sure that I got everything I needed on question seven about the Mending Charm, and -'

'Hermione, relax,' Linnea said brightly with a little laugh.

'Potter's really chipper about how it was almost all about spellcasting,' Pansy explained with a roll of her eyes.

'Of course she is,' Leanne said with a frustrated sigh. 'And she really has nothing to worry about in the practical. You're the kind of friend that's easy to hate, you know that, Lin?'

'Oh, come on. I'm willing to bet you ten Galleons that Hermione and Su will do much better than me.'

'In the theory test maybe, but you'll have us in the practical part,' Hermione sniffed.

'Only the overall grade gets considered,' Linnea reminded her. 'Your theory is perfect, and it's not like your spells fail or anything - you're almost assured of getting a perfect score! And that goes for Su as well.'

'Our spells aren't as strong as yours,' Su said quietly. 'That'll definitely swing a lot of points your way in the practical.'

'Yeah, maybe,' Linnea conceded.

'Well, instead of discussing your superiority to the rest of us mere mortals,' Leanne said with a smirk, 'how about you show us a few tips and tricks?'

They practised as many charms as they could - those that they thought likely for Professor Flitwick to highlight in his exam as he called the students back in the room one by one in alphabetical order. Leanne was very nervous about being last; Linnea promised to wait for her until she was finished. Hermione was first to go, followed by Su, then Pansy. When Professor Flitwick was through testing Sally-Anne of Gryffindor, he called for Linnea to join him in the room; she looked back at her best friend with a reassuring smile and went in.

'Good morning, Miss Potter.'

'Good morning, Professor Flitwick,' Linnea answered with a smile.

'I'm going to test you on a few charms - nothing we haven't covered in class, though any extra knowledge that you can demonstrate will earn you a few bonus points. You'll also receive more points for the amount of time that you'll be able to maintain some of the charms that I'll be asking you to perform. You will have three tries to cast a spell - failure to get the charm to work will result in getting lower marks but knowledge of the incantation and wand movement will save you from getting a zero in it. If you get your charm to work but it fails before I have had enough time to examine it, you will have two more tries to get it to work as best as you can. Getting the charm to work well the first time round will result in higher points. Do you understand?'

'Yes, Professor,' Linnea said with a nod as she withdrew her wand from its holster.

'Any questions?' When Linnea shook her head, the Charms professor smiled and said, 'Then let us begin. Could you show me a Wand-Lighting Charm?'

Smiling, Linnea brought her wand up and said, '_Lumos_.' A bright white light flared at its tip; she maintained the spell - which, as it was the most basic of charms wasn't at all difficult to do - until Professor Flitwick smiled, nodded and said, 'Extinguish it if you please, Miss Potter.'

Linnea whispered, '_Nox_,' and the light went out. Professor Flitwick noted a few things on a clipboard then looked back up at her and asked, 'Are there any variations of the Wand-Lighting Charm that you can show me, Miss Potter?' When Linnea nodded enthusiastically in response, he smiled again and waved at her to proceed.

She pointed her wand up at the ceiling and said, '_Lumos Sphera_.' An orb of white light shot out of her wand and settled in the air; Professor Flitwick nodded in appreciation as he once again wrote on the clipboard then asked if she could direct the light with her wand. She did so, and Professor Flitwick smiled and told her to show him anything else she wished to demonstrate.

After making the light sphere go out, Linnea pointed her wand away from them and said clearly, '_Lumos Solem_.' A very bright cone of warm, yellow sunlight issued out of her wand; she maintained it until the Head of Ravenclaw told her to extinguish it. He once again asked her if she had anything more to show on the Wand-Lighting Charm, and she answered, 'Just one more, Professor.' She concentrated on a point in the air to her right, pointed her wand in its direction and said, '_Lumos Duo_.' A wide beam of white light issued from her wand's tip; it stopped at a sphere similar to the one she had already produced, which was positioned at the point that she had focused on. Linnea's heart gave a little jig when she noticed Professor Flitwick looking impressed before he had her extinguish it.

'I think that's more than enough for the Wand-Lighting Charm, Miss Potter,' he said with an encouraging smile. He then gestured at a teacup that stood on the table between them. 'I would like you to break this cup then repair it.'

The Severing Charm instantly came to mind for breaking it, with the Mending Charm obviously coming afterward. Again remembering the events of Halloween, she concentrated hard on getting her spell to an appropriate strength level and said, '_Diffindo_,' pointing her wand at the cup; it promptly broke in two. Still keeping her wand pointed at the cup, she said, '_Reparo_,' and the pieces flew back together to reform the whole.

'Well done,' Professor Flitwick said, again writing on the clipboard. 'Is there any other form of the two charms that you demonstrated that you would like to show me?'

'No, Professor. The Severing Charm and Mending Charm don't have any variations; the intent and power of the spells is what drives their effects.'

Professor Flitwick beamed as he noted something else on his clipboard. Linnea could feel the ecstasy building within her.

'One last test, Miss Potter - could you make this pineapple dance for me?'

_Basic movement of inanimate objects_, Linnea thought with another smile. The spell she needed for this had no incantation. It dealt with tiny, miscellaneous movements that would not require much effort to do manually; many of the more advanced movement spells, she had read, were much more specific, had incantations and needed some sort of target. She focused on the pineapple and what she wanted it to do and flicked her wand; the spiny leaves at the top began flailing around. She flicked her wand again and the pineapple rotated, now upside-down; with the leaves now acting as odd little legs, the pineapple went into a tap dance.

'Very well done, Miss Potter,' Professor Flitwick said, nodding fervently as he wrote on the clipboard. 'Could you put the pineapple back into its original state?' Linnea flicked her wand again and the pineapple flopped onto the table, back to its original behavior - or lack thereof. 'That will be all, Miss Potter. Please leave through that door over there. I feel I ought to tell you - I am very impressed. You seem to be a natural at Charms, and I commend you for your knowledge concerning the spells you used.'

'Thank you, Professor,' Linnea said happily; she considered giving the tiny teacher a hug but managed to hold herself back. Instead, she stowed her wand away and skipped to the door that he had pointed out to her and left the room.

Linnea was quite sure that she had just managed to get her first "O", and so was feeling very happy with herself. She went to sit on the stone bench that stood opposite the door that she had just gone through. She replayed the entire practical in her head and with each memory, her joy increased. She took particular satisfaction in Professor Flitwick's reactions and what he told her at the end; for the Head of Ravenclaw to tell her just how impressed he was confirmed to her that she was good at Charms like nothing else would. She was just wondering if she could somehow elicit some form of extra lessons from the Charms Master when a voice reached her ears - a familiar, usually-stuttering voice.

She looked around; she had been so happy with how the practical went that she hadn't noticed the door that stood slightly ajar to her left. Making sure to be as quiet as she could, she crept towards it and peeked around the doorway; it was an empty classroom, but with extra desks and benches stacked up in a corner. In the middle of the room stood Professor Quirrell, talking…to himself, it seemed. That got Linnea's eyebrows to quirk in confusion; she knew that the professor wasn't a nice person, but she hadn't thought him to be mental.

'- require your assistance, Master,' he was saying.

Then, to Linnea's heightened confusion, a cold, high voice answered, saying, 'Not here, you fool! Someone may come by.'

'Not to worry, Master, it is exam time; everyone is far too busy with themselves.'

'Nevertheless, speak to me only when you are sure there is no chance of being overheard; it would not do for anyone to discover our secret. Do you understand?'

'Yes, Master,' Professor Quirrell replied at once. Linnea looked around the room as much as she could for this "master" but could see no one else.

'Now what do you want_?_' the disembodied voice hissed.

'I wanted to inquire if this would be a good opportunity to make our attempt on the Stone. As I said, it is currently exam time, which has drawn the focus of the students in the castle. The other professors will be lax in their watchfulness as well, Master.'

'Yes,' the cold voice said thoughtfully, 'this would seem to be an opportune time to steal the Stone. However, you must take great care, Quirrell; as a teacher, your absences will be greatly noticed. And before we make any attempt, we must ensure that that fool Dumbledore is as far from the castle as we can manage.'

'Of course, Master,' Professor Quirrell said. 'With all the information we have collected on the protections surrounding the Stone, I am certain that it will soon be yours.'

'We still do not know what machinations Dumbledore himself has devised to stop someone from procuring the Stone,' the voice said angrily. 'We cannot do anything about that, however; Dumbledore must remain ignorant of my presence - this is more important than anything else, understand?'

'Yes, Master,' Professor Quirrell said again. 'I have been able to avoid suspicion - except for Snape. What should I do about him?'

'Do not kill him; that pleasure will be mine alone. Keep an eye out for the Potter girl as well; she suspects - though how much, I do not know. I would like to meet my old friend in person, when I have been returned to glory.'

Linnea's mouth went dry; she could think of someone who would speak such words about her, but it couldn't be - he was dead, wasn't he?

'Surely you do not believe the girl has any hope to match you, my lord?'

'Of course not,' the voice scoffed. 'She, like any other woman, is weak, blinded by her emotions and desires - and she is a Hufflepuff on top of that; she lacks the drive and strength to seek power. Dumbledore himself could not hope to measure up to me - what chance could such a girl have? After all, it was not she who defeated me, but the sacrifice of her filthy Mudblood mother. No, my concerns aren't for her ability, but her affiliations; if I know Dumbledore, he will have taken great steps to ensure that the Girl Who Lived is firmly in his pocket. If her suspicions grow, she will undoubtedly run off to the old fool.'

'I understand, Master,' Professor Quirrell said, nodding.

'Do not fail me, Quirrell. Succeed, and you shall rise beside me, soaring to heights you never dreamed possible as Lord Voldemort reclaims his rightful place in the world.'

Linnea couldn't help it - she gasped; Professor Quirrell turned his head towards the door, his expression hard. Eyes widened and on tiptoe, Linnea hastily made her way back to the bench; she had just managed to compose herself into what she hoped was a calm demeanor when he strode into the corridor. She could feel his eyes on her, but didn't dare look around. Instead, she forced herself to hum and swing her legs as though she didn't have a care in the world.

Footsteps - he was walking towards her. Linnea's heart raced, threatening to burst out of her chest. Every cell in her body was screaming at her to run, but she forcefully kept herself on the bench. He had reached her - far too fast in her opinion.

'P - P - Potter…what are you d - doing here all by yourself?' he asked.

Linnea put on her best fake smile; she had grown quite adept at the art in her ten years of imprisonment with the Dursleys.

'Oh, hello, Professor Quirrell,' she said; she was horrified to hear that her voice was shaking slightly. Nevertheless, she tried to sound as bright as she could. 'I'm just waiting for my friend Leanne to finish her Charms exam. It was frightfully difficult - I'm still nervous about how I might have done. I hope you won't be too hard on us in the DADA exam, Professor.'

Professor Quirrell laughed - a laugh that was as fake as Linnea's smile.

'I will d - do my best M - Miss Potter - just like y - y - you will, I'm s - sure.'

They smiled, each searching the other's face for a break in their facade. Linnea was sure that she would soon crack; she dearly wanted to scream and run back to Professor Flitwick for protection. Just at that moment - as if in answer to her silent pleas - Leanne came through the door with a small smile on her face.

'There's my friend, Professor; I'll see you later.'

She shot off the bench, grabbed Leanne's arm in a vice-like grip and practically dragged her off. She didn't look back, but she knew that Professor Quirrell was watching them go. Once they turned a corner, she let go of her friend and leaned against the wall, panting as though she had just run a marathon. She realized just how frightened she had really been.

'What's wrong with you?' Leanne asked, her eyes wide.

Linnea didn't answer, opting instead to take in huge gulps of air in an attempt to calm herself down. Her brain told her that she should get as far away from there as possible, so she grabbed Leanne again and quietly steered her towards their common room, where she knew Professor Quirrell wouldn't be able to get to them. Her fellow Hufflepuff took her shepherding in stride until they both fell into the squishy armchairs by the fire.

'Okay, what's going on?' she asked urgently.

'Professor Quirrell -' Linnea faltered.

'What about him?' Leanne asked coaxingly. 'He can't get in, Lin - that's why you came straight here, isn't it? The common room is safe.'

'Right, right,' Linnea said distractedly as she came to terms with what she had just learned. She looked at her friend and announced, without preamble, 'Professor Quirrell is working for Voldemort.'

Leanne somehow managed to gasp, shudder and squeak all at once. On an ordinary day, Linnea would have found this funny. It wasn't an ordinary day.

'W - What d'you mean Professor Quirrell's working for You-Know-Who?' she asked incredulously. 'Isn't he dead?'

'I - I thought so too - at least, that's what most people say,' Linnea answered. 'But I just heard Professor Quirrell talking to someone who said that they were Voldemort -' Leanne squeaked again. '- and from some of what he said, I think I believed it; he called me an "old friend" and said he wanted to meet me in person when he returned to glory.'

Leanne stared, fear evident in every facet of her expression. 'D - Did you see him?' she whispered.

'No, and that's what's really bothering me,' Linnea said with a shiver. 'I could just hear this creepy voice talking with Professor Quirrell.'

'What else did he say?'

Linnea told Leanne as much as she could remember about the conversation. When she was finished, the two girls were still staring at each other fearfully.

'S - so Professor Quirrell doesn't want the Stone for himself - he wants it for You-Know-Who.'

'It looks like it,' Linnea agreed. 'I think he just got weakened the night he attacked me - that's why he wants the Stone, for the Elixir of Life. If he drinks it…' She didn't need to finish the sentence for them to know what would happen if Voldemort drank the Elixir of Life.

Leanne took a deep breath and asked, 'L - Lin, w - what d'you think he'll do to you if he comes back?'

They stared at each other again. It was not a pleasant train of thought.

'H - Honestly, I wouldn't be surprised if he tortured me for all I was worth - that's apparently how he enjoyed himself back when he was in power. But it's not just about me; if he gets the Stone, he'll start another war.'

'And with the Stone, he'll have more than enough gold to spend. He could even give the Elixir to the Death Eaters.' Leanne stared hopelessly into the fire for a long time before she shook her head and said, 'But what about Dumbledore? People always say that he's the one wizard that You-Know-Who feared.'

'I told you - they want to get him out of the castle before they try to steal the Stone. Besides, from what Hermione told me, it sounded like Voldemort -' Another squeak. '- had just about won the war before he met me - he was wiping the floor with both the Ministry and Professor Dumbledore's Order of the Phoenix. That doesn't really give me a lot of faith in the Professor's ability to protect everyone.'

'Then we should tell him about this - right now.' Leanne stood up, then paused and asked, 'You remember where his office is, I hope.'

'I do,' Linnea confirmed as she too stood up. 'Let's go - but keep your wand out; I don't think Professor Quirrell would try anything if we were around other students, but it's best to be prepared.'

Leanne nodded in agreement and took her wand out of an inner pocket of her robes. Both armed, the girls marched out of the common room; they kept close together, peering around every corner before they proceeded into the next corridor. After what felt like an eternity, they came to the great stone gargoyle that guarded the entrance to the headmaster's office.

'Acid Pops,' Linnea said; it was the password that Professor Sprout had used when they came for the meeting with the Weasleys and the Grangers. The gargoyle didn't budge. Just as she was beginning to think that the password had probably changed, Linnea suddenly realized that Professor Dumbledore wasn't in his office. How she knew she wasn't sure, though she supposed that it was part of the magic of Hogwarts castle.

'He's not in,' she said to Leanne, whose hand ran through her hair. 'Let's go find Professor McGonagall. She's the deputy headmistress; maybe she knows where Professor Dumbledore is.'

They set off once more, this time towards Professor McGonagall's office, which was right next to the Transfiguration classroom. They kept an eye out for Professor Quirrell as they did before, which made the journey just as slow as their previous one. They thankfully didn't encounter him and reached the Transfiguration teacher's office without incident. When they knocked, Professor McGonagall's stern voice bid them to enter.

It was a very plain room. The Head of Gryffindor apparently didn't approve of personal touches in her office. They were a little surprised, though also grateful to see that Hermione was there.

'Miss Potter, Miss Taylor - what can I do for you?' Professor McGonagall asked while Hermione gave them a look riddled with curiosity.

Her voice slightly panicky, Linnea said, 'We need to see Professor Dumbledore - right now.'

'I'm afraid that the headmaster has stepped out of the school, Miss Potter,' Professor McGonagall said, her eyes narrowing. 'Whatever it is, I am sure that I can assist you. What's the matter?'

Linnea's heart sank; Professor Quirrell had executed whatever plan he had had in mind for getting Professor Dumbledore away from the castle while she and Leanne had been talking in the Hufflepuff common room. She knew that she couldn't waste any more time, so she told Professor McGonagall exactly what was the matter.

'Professor, the Philosopher's Stone is about to be stolen.'

Hermione gasped in surprise and Professor McGonagall stared at her as though she had just been slapped. Finally, she sputtered, 'How do you know about the Stone?'

'That doesn't matter, Professor; it's going to be stolen by Professor Quirrell and -'

'Professor Quirrell? Nonsense, he is helping us to protect the Stone.'

'I know it's hard to believe, Professor, but -'

'That is enough, Miss Potter,' Professor McGonagall said sternly. 'I do not know how you could possibly have found out about the Stone, but rest assured - it is perfectly safe; no member of the Hogwarts staff would put it in jeopardy.'

'P - Professor, y - you can't really be sure of that, can you?' Hermione asked in a small voice; she practically shrinked when Professor McGonagall turned her eyes towards her instead.

'Of course, I should have known that you would know about this as well, given how close you are to Miss Potter,' she sniffed. 'I will say it again: the Stone is safe. It is not your place to worry about it. Now I would advise you all to go to lunch if you haven't already; the house-elves will keep the meal on the tables until three - which is in another half hour. Then study for the Transfiguration exam tomorrow; I promise you that it will not be easy. And not a word about the Stone to anyone else, am I understood?'

'But Professor -'

'Not another word, Potter. Am I understood?'

The three girls looked at each other then nodded sadly before quietly leaving the room. Once they were outside, however, Hermione immediately turned to the other two and asked, 'What's going on?'

Linnea let Leanne fill her in. When she was done, Hermione stood staring at Linnea for a long time before she suddenly said, 'Wait, we can tell Professor Snape - he already suspects Professor Quirrell, so he'll definitely believe us!'

_I hadn't thought of that_. Linnea eagerly nodded and set off for the Potions classroom, at the back of which was Professor Snape's office. Leanne and Hermione hastily followed her, the former glancing back every so often to make sure that Professor Quirrell wasn't following them. When they came to the Potions classroom, however, they found it locked.

'No,' Linnea whined. 'Where is he?'

'Somewhere we won't be able to find him in time, I think,' Leanne answered miserably. 'I hate to think about it, but Professor Quirrell probably did something to him to make sure we couldn't tell him.'

'M - Maybe he's in the Great Hall,' Hermione said, not wanting to think of the implications of Professor Quirrell "doing something" to stop Professor Snape's interference.

'Hey, what're you all doing down here?'

They turned around; it was Pansy, staring at them with a questioning gaze.

'Pansy, have you seen Professor Snape?' Linnea asked hopefully.

'I was actually coming to see him right now; he sent for me from the library - I was there with Li. Why are you looking for him?'

Linnea let out a frustrated scream while Leanne said something very unladylike; Pansy's eyes widened and she asked Hermione what was going on. Her eyes widened even more when the Gryffindor answered her.

'T - The Dark Lord is alive? Are - are you sure?'

'Reasonably, though I didn't see him,' Linnea answered.

Pansy stared for a long time before saying nervously, 'If both Professor Dumbledore and Professor Snape are missing, then that means that Professor Quirrell is going for the Stone today. He must have figured out how to get past Hagrid's beast.'

'That's what it sounded like,' said Linnea. 'He could be going for it _right now_ while we're scrambling around for help.'

'No, I don't think he'd go for it now,' Hermione said thoughtfully. 'His best bet would be during dinner - pretty much everyone will be in the Great Hall then and it's quite a distance from the third floor; that would be the perfect time for him to steal the Stone and make off with it.'

'If he went missing during an actual exam everyone would notice,' Pansy added, 'but if it was during dinner, most people would think that he was doing some extra preparations for the DADA exams, or just taking dinner in his office. Granger's right - that's when he'll do it.'

'Why not after curfew? There's less chance of running into someone then, isn't there?' Leanne wondered.

'Because prefects, ghosts, teachers and Filch patrol the corridors during curfew,' Linnea mused. 'Sure, he'd have less chance meeting someone, but those will be the people on high alert - people he'll want to avoid. And even if he gets spotted right after dinner, it's not like anyone is going to open fire on him in a corridor full of kids; he could use the students as a shield if anything goes wrong.'

'Okay, so he'll try to steal the Stone during dinner,' Leanne said, nodding. 'But what do we do about it? Professor McGonagall pretty much ignored us, and she's the one who's in charge when Professor Dumbledore isn't around; if we told any of the other teachers, they'd tell her, and we'd just get in trouble.'

'Then we go after Professor Quirrell,' Linnea replied firmly, 'and we keep the Stone away from him.'

Whatever the others had been expecting, it wasn't that; they stared at Linnea as though she had sprouted a second head. She looked at them expectantly, eyebrows raised. Ages passed before Hermione finally spoke.

'L - Lin, I - I think we should leave this to the teachers,' she said quietly.

'Didn't we just spend a lot of time looking for a teacher to help? We can't find the ones who would help or would believe us, and we're agreed on the fact that with Professor McGonagall in charge, no one is likely to take us seriously.'

'But Professor Quirrell is a full-grown wizard; we're just first years. I don't think any of us can -'

'Professor Quirrell is one person - there are five of us. Unless he's got eyes in the back of his head, he can't possibly keep track of all of us if we try and surround him if it comes down to a fight. And full-grown wizard or not, even he won't be able to do anything if one of us manages to hit him with a Body-Bind Curse.'

'It isn't just Quirrell we have to worry about, Potter; you seem convinced that he is working for the Dark Lord. If we cross his path - especially you - he won't hesitate to kill us all.'

'Voldemort -' She ignored the customary gasps and shudders. '- wasn't in the room with Professor Quirrell when they were talking; I don't know how they're communicating, but he isn't in the castle. I think Voldemort is in some kind of weakened state; he wouldn't risk coming here himself if he couldn't be able to fight back. That's why he would need someone to steal the Stone for him in the first place. In short - we won't run into him.'

'It'll still be dangerous, Lin,' Hermione persisted.

Linnea looked around at her incredulously. 'Dangerous? Any more dangerous than if Voldemort gets the Stone and comes back? You've read more about the last war than I have Hermione, and even I know how bad things were then because of him. Just how safe do you think any of us will be if he comes back? And he'll be immortal; he was winning the war before, how d'you think we'll fare this time if neither he nor his Death Eaters have to worry about dying?'

They all remained silent at that and stared at each other fearfully. Getting impatient, Linnea went on, saying, 'Pansy, Leanne - you've grown up on stories about Voldemort. Be honest: d'you really want to sit around, do nothing and let him return to power?'

'M - My family supported the Dark Lord, Potter,' Pansy said in as low a voice as she could manage.

'I know,' Linnea answered, waving her hand dismissively; Pansy's mouth opened slightly in surprise. 'Leanne told me - but I didn't hold it against you because I know that _you _didn't - don't - support him; you would never have become friends with any of us if you did.'

Pansy remained silent; she couldn't refute Linnea's last statement. The others were still as quiet as before. Linnea was close to shaking every one of them.

'There's a saying in the Muggle world: "All that is needed for evil to triumph is for good people to do nothing". I don't plan on just hoping for a miracle - I'm going to stop Professor Quirrell with or without you.'

She turned around and began to walk away; she had barely taken five steps when Leanne suddenly said, 'Lin, wait! You're right…I - I'll go with you.'

Linnea gave her fellow Hufflepuff an appreciative smile then turned back to the others and asked, 'What about you?'

Pansy and Hermione looked at each other before the latter took a large gulp of air and said hesitantly, 'I - I'm in too.'

They all looked at Pansy, who was looking very uncomfortable and - for the first time since Linnea met her - frightened. It took her a while, but she finally nodded. Linnea beamed.

'Thank you. Don't worry, we'll be fine - we just need to look out for each other. Pansy, did you say that Su's in the library?'

'Yeah,' Pansy answered, a hint of suspicion in her voice.

'I'd better go and talk to her; I know I said that there'd be five of us, but I have to convince her first.'

'And then we come up with a plan,' Hermione interjected quietly.

'Right,' Linnea agreed with a nod.


	13. Confrontation

Convincing Su to join their attempt to protect the Philosopher's Stone from Professor Quirrell was much easier than it had been getting the other girls to come around. She had, of course, suggested taking the issue up with a professor but on hearing about what had happened with the Head of Gryffindor and Voldemort's involvement, she readily agreed, saying that this was much more important than any exam could ever be - causing Hermione's eyes to go comically round.

They whiled away the time until dinner plotting out what they could do. They agreed that they wwould have a much greater chance of success in stopping Professor Quirrell before he went down the trapdoor; since they didn't know any of the protections surrounding the Stone besides Fluffy - not to mention their being first years - it was highly unlikely that they would be able to keep up with Professor Quirrell well enough to keep the Stone out of his reach. They would only follow the demented teacher if they couldn't stop him before he got past Fluffy.

And so it was with these thoughts in mind that Linnea and Leanne found themselves hidden behind two alcoves in the third floor corridor, staying as quiet as possible and only occasionally throwing tense glances towards each other. Hermione, Su and Pansy were all under the Invisibility Cloak, standing sentry in the entrance to the corridor to alert them to Professor Quirrell's approach; they had agreed to use this little bit of deception to keep Professor Quirrell unaware of their true numbers. Having already seen Leanne with Linnea, he would likely fall into a complacent mood if he saw only them, having no knowledge of the Cloak.

As she leaned against the cold stone of the alcove, Linnea thought about what they were about to do. It was so decidedly Gryffindor that Linnea thought she ought to find the Sorting Hat and ask it what it was playing at, not putting them all in the house for the (recklessly and stupidly) brave. Considering the matter more, however, she began to see that the Hat may have known what it was doing. She supposed that it was very unlikely for an individual to exclusively possess only the traits of a single Hogwarts house, which led her to believe that the Hat most likely sorted you according to your most prevalent characteristics. She was well aware, for example, of her vengeful and slightly vindictive nature, as evidenced by her pranks on the Dursleys and her desire to totally humiliate Ron Weasley - traits that she knew would be greatly celebrated in Slytherin. Yet she was in Hufflepuff. Had the Hat sensed her desperate want of friends and the depths to which she would go to protect whomever she would be lucky to call as such? She wondered whether she could go strike up a conversation with the Hat, which she had seen in Professor Dumbledore's office, at some point…

'Quirrell's coming!'

Pansy's hiss of a whisper jolted her out of her musings. She shook her head and withdrew her wand, glancing at Leanne, who already had her own wand out and sent her a tight smile. She couldn't see them, but she knew her friends under the Cloak were standing on Leanne's side of the corridor, waiting until they would have to reveal themselves. They waited silently, each of them afraid that breathing would prematurely alert Professor Quirrell to their presence. The seconds ticked by and Linnea could feel her tension mounting. She once again cursed Professor McGonagall for brushing her aside. Even with her earlier declarations, Linnea knew that what they were doing was dangerous. She couldn't in any way guarantee the outcome, but she would sooner hang herself than sit like a good little girl and watch the world descend into hell.

The DADA teacher strode into the corridor, his purple turban in customary position. He slowly looked around and seeing no one, walked hurriedly towards the door beyond which Fluffy stood guard. Linnea didn't dare move a muscle as she relied on his footsteps to let her know of his exact position. In seconds - though it felt like hours to Linnea - he was ahead of them. She looked at Leanne again and nodded before taking a deep breath and stepping out of her hiding place.

'_Petrificus Totalus!_'

Though his normally quavering and stuttering voice indicated otherwise, there was a reason why Professor Quirrell was the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher; he wheeled about and wand in hand, swatted her Body-Bind Curse to the side as easily as though it were an irksome fly. He had obviously been expecting her, as he sneered when he saw her, bringing his wand up to point at the tiny Hufflepuff.

'Potter. I thought I'd be seeing you here,' he said.

'Did you? And why is that, Professor?'

'Surely you did not think that you were able to deceive me earlier? I knew that you heard me conversing with my Master. I also knew that you would immediately start scurrying around looking for someone to tell, being the meddlesome little brat that you are - I'm sure you noticed that Snape and the fool Dumbledore are currently…occupied.'

'What did you do to Professor Snape?' Linnea sent another Body-Bind at Professor Quirrell, but he dealt with it just as easily as the last one.

'Nothing permanent, I assure you,' Professor Quirrell answered silkily with a nasty grin. 'I'm surprised you'd be so concerned for him, what with his hatred of your fath -'

'Quirrell, you fool, this is not the time to dawdle.' It was Voldemort's voice; she heard one of her friends give an involuntary gasp at its icy quality. Linnea, on the other hand, was staring at Professor Quirrell in shock. Now that she was so close to him, it was as if Voldemort's voice was coming from _him_. _Don't be ridiculous_, she chided herself, tightening her grip on her wand.

Professor Quirrell was sneering once again. 'What was that? Did you bring a friend, Potter?'

Before she could answer, he jabbed his wand in her direction and she watched as his mouth went into a scowl. Linnea gulped; they'd been had.

Leanne seemed to realize this as well for she jumped out from behind the alcove and sent her own curse at the young teacher, which also failed to find its target. The two girls began firing spells as fast as they could but to no avail; Professor Quirrell deflected them all while being able to send his own towards them, which they had to dodge as best as they could. He was much too fast for them.

Seeing that they needed help, the other three girls threw the Invisibility Cloak off and surged forwards to partake in the duel. The moment Professor Quirrell saw them, however, he gave his wand a wide, sweeping flourish while shouting out a spell and a moment later Linnea felt herself fly as a great force crashed into her body. She fell with a resounding crash onto the stone floor in an aching mass and her world promptly erupted in bright spots. The cries of pain around her told her that she was not alone in this. She shook her head to clear it of cobwebs even as she heard Professor Quirrell's footsteps hurrying away. She heard the door at the end of the corridor creak open and Fluffy's momentary barks before the Cerberus fell silent once more.

'That went well,' Pansy said bitterly as she gingerly picked herself up off the floor.

'Very well,' Linnea said as she was pulled to her feet by Su, who was the first to recover. 'I think he used a spell to tell him if there was anyone else besides us in the corridor.'

'Yeah, and he flattened us,' Leanne said with a heavy frown. 'Do you still think we can stop him?'

'Yes,' Linnea said with conviction. 'He only got us all because we were in front of him -'

'That spell he used might have gone out all around him,' Hermione pointed out. 'It may have just as easily hit us even if we had surrounded him first. We should be thankful that he didn't use anything worse.'

Linnea nodded absently as she looked down the corridor. 'We can't give up, though. Come on, we need to catch up to him.' She raced along the corridor without giving the others time to answer; they gave each other momentary glances before Hermione grabbed the Invisibility Cloak and they followed. Linnea stopped when she came to the slightly-ajar door. She turned back to her friends and said tensely, 'Give me the Cloak; I'll check if Fluffy's in any state to kill us.' The bushy-haired Gryffindor passed it to her and Linnea promptly threw it over herself. She took a deep breath and lightly pushed the door open far enough for her to squeeze through, wand at the ready.

She could see why Leanne had been so terrified after she had seen Hagrid's guard dog; it was huge, filling the room almost up to the ceiling. The three heads were monstrous both in demeanor and size; they each were taller than Linnea and wider besides. Fluffy knew that there was someone in the room, and he was consequently growling, all three mouths baring razor-sharp teeth glistening with saliva. His three noses were incessantly sniffing and his eyes were darting to every corner of the room not taken up by his massive form. Linnea didn't dare breath as she looked around; she spotted the trapdoor Leanne had mentioned and a harp lying innocently on the ground. Feeling less and less welcome with every second she spent there, Linnea quickly tip-toed out back into the corridor, where she took the Cloak off.

'Fluffy's still there,' she reported, 'but Professor Quirrell isn't. He must have gotten past him.'

'How?'

'I'm not sure, but there's a harp lying on the floor; Professor Quirrell must have left it there.'

'Playing the harp must somehow help someone get past Fluffy,' Hermione theorized. 'I think Professor Quirrell made it stop playing so that we can't follow him through the trapdoor.'

'Brilliant. So someone goes in with the Cloak and starts playing the harp. So…who knows how to play the damn thing?'

They looked at each other nervously for a few moments before Su said, 'I - I can try; I learned how to play the guitar a little when I was younger. I can use a basic Movement Charm on the strings.'

'That sounds good. I think we'll need to thank Professor Flitwick for testing it on us with the pineapple. Okay, come under the Cloak with me,' Linnea said; she threw it over the both of them when Su was close enough and they vanished from the others' sights. They crept together back into Fluffy's home and Linnea noticed Su barely maintain a gasp as she stared at the Cerberus before them. She seemed transfixed before Linnea nudged her to remind her of the task at hand. She pointed her wand at the harp with a look of severe concentration on her face and flicked it; the harp immediately began playing a soothing melody.

The Cerberus' eyes instantly began to droop and its legs got wobbly; it crashed down to lie on its stomach, all its eyes closed and its breathing slow and calm. He was asleep.

'Come in, it's okay,' Linnea said urgently, loud enough for their companions to hear. They instantly shuffled in and Hermione and Pansy's eyes widened at the sight of the slumbering creature. Leanne gave Fluffy a wave in mock greeting. They all stared at him for a while before Pansy said dispassionately, 'So it falls asleep when you play it a song? Remind me never to trust Hagrid with _anything_.'

'I doubt that's an option for you, considering that he hates you,' Hermione said, wincing as the great beast's hot breath enveloped them.

'Come on, we need to follow Professor Quirrell,' Leanne said urgently, rushing to the trapdoor beside which Linnea was already kneeling. They pulled it open together as the others came up to them.

When they looked down, their gazes were met with nothing but inky blackness. Linnea created a sphere of light using her wand and sent it hurtling down as far as she could; they could catch a glimpse of something, but she wasn't sure exactly what.

'It looks like some sort of plant,' Pansy said, her eyes narrowed in a severe squint. 'I can't tell which one, though.'

'Me neither,' said Hermione in distaste.

'I think we'll just have to jump down,' Su whispered, fear evident in her voice. 'It should break our fall so we won't get hurt.'

'I'll go first,' Linnea said instantly, lowering herself so that she was sitting on the lip of the square hole in the floor. 'I'll let you know if it's safe - don't follow me if it isn't.' The others nodded and Linnea took a deep breath before throwing herself down.

The wind swept past her her as she went rushing down, her eyes closed and body tensed, braced for impact. She landed with a soft _flump_ on the plant, which she could now see entirely covered what she guessed was the floor of the room she was now in. She looked around, taking in the gloom with her wand raised. She didn't see any movement and so called up to her friends to follow. Wary of any of them falling on her, she tried to stand - and found that she couldn't.

She looked down at her legs, which refused to move, and watched in horror as tough plant vines slowly snaked their way around her. She shrieked.

'What're you - whoa, whoa! What is this?' Pansy was next to her, and joined Linnea in her fruitless attempts to prise the vines off herself when she realized that she was in a similar situation.

'_Diffindo!_' Linnea cried; one vine split apart as the Severing Charm passed through it, only for three more to take its place.

'Don't follow us!' Pansy yelled up at the others. 'This plant is trying to kill us!' There were vines wrapping tightly around her chest as she struggled.

'Both of you stop moving!' Hermione commanded, her voice desperate. 'It's probably Devil's Snare - if you struggle, it'll only kill you faster; if you relax, it'll slow down.'

Linnea and Pansy did as they were told with instant results; the plant indeed slowed its attempts to crush them to death, but it was still doing it - subtly.

'We learned about Devil's Snare in Herbology, didn't we?' Linnea whispered.

'Yes, and we read about how to deal with it in _One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi_ last week - it hates light and warmth.'

'Yeah, that's right,' Linnea agreed as she remembered. 'That means using fire or the Sunlight Spell.'

'Hey, are you two all right?' Leanne called down to them.

'Yeah, we just remembered how to beat Devil's Snare,' Linnea answered.

'Don't do it yet; we need to get down there first. If the plant's not covering the place, we could get hurt when we jump,' said Hermione.

'Well then come down and join us.'

The three girls quickly jumped down beside them - with no one luckily not landing on anyone else.

'Let's use the Sunlight Spell,' said Linnea. 'If we use fire we would probably get hurt.'

Fortunately able to still move her wand arm, Linnea pointed her wand towards the center of the room and said, '_Lumos Solem_,' just as her friends did. Great swaths of sunlight erupted from each of her wands and they instantly felt the vines of Devil's Snare shrinking away from them as they tried to escape. They promptly fell through to land quite heavily on more stone.

'I'm disappointed in Professor Sprout,' Pansy said snidely as she picked herself back up. 'If she wanted to kill any intruders she shouldn't have used a plant that even first years would know about.'

The others nodded in silent agreement as they looked up at the dirty green vines, which had moved to once again cover the space they had fallen through once they had ended their spells.

Linnea leveled her gaze to look around surreptitiously. They were in a corridor. The eerie silence unnerved her and she sent another sphere of light ahead of them, keeping her eyes open for Professor Quirrell - he was nowhere in sight. 'Come on,' she said, her voice laden with tension.

She led the way down the dark corridor, holding her lit wand aloft. Her breath came out in fast and shortened gasps; her heart was hammering so much she was sure that the others could hear it. She couldn't fool herself - she was frightened out of her mind. But something inside her willed Linnea to go on; she wondered if it was the same thing that led her friends to follow her in this wild and dangerous mission. She could feel their presence practically at her back, all of them holding their wands out. None of them spoke - what could words possibly do at a time like this? Linnea was sure that talking now could very well break their resolve; it was not like they _wanted_ to be here, rather they had been forced to take the teachers' job onto themselves for everyone else's sake. So she stayed quiet, and the others followed her lead. They didn't make a sound even as the fluttering of what seemed to be hundreds of wings reached their ears.

They finally came to another door, behind which the noise was coming from. Linnea grasped the handle and looked back at her companions; they were all steeling their faces into determined expressions. She gave a nod and flung the door open.

The girls instantly charged into the room, wands pointing ahead of them. Professor Quirrell had obviously already left this room behind. The sound of wings bombarded them from above, where they could see numerous keys with bright, shimmering insect wings. In the middle of the room floated a solitary broomstick, and standing opposite to them was another door.

'This must be Professor Flitwick's contribution,' Linnea mused, staring up at the keys. 'But I must say, it seems really simple - all you have to do is catch the correct key on that broomstick. I expected something much more difficult; he's a Charms Master, after all.'

'Maybe something else happens when someone actually gets on the broomstick,' Leanne suggested.

'Maybe,' agreed Linnea. 'I'll get the key - but which one?'

'Keys are normally fashioned after the locks they open,' Su said, crossing the room to inspect the door. 'Look for a big, old-fashioned silver one.'

The girls all looked up, staring at the mass of flying keys. It didn't take Linnea long to find the correct one.

'I see it! It looks like one of its wings is broken. I'm glad Professor Quirrell was kind enough to make our job easier - I'm not sure I could be a very good Seeker.'

'Just be careful,' Hermione said nervously. 'Like Leanne said, something might happen if you take the broom.'

'It's a good thing I have four people with me then, isn't it?'

Linnea gave the others a small smile and strode to the broomstick; her hand hovered over it for the barest of moments before she took it in her grasp.

The winged keys went into an instant frenzy; they had been floating around lazily before, but now picked up an uncanny speed as they whooshed down on her, enveloping her in a confusing tornado of wings. She tried beating them away as she mounted the broom to no avail.

'They'll probably follow me around to make it harder for me to catch the correct key; try to keep them off me as best as you can!'

She took off and just as she had predicted, the keys rushed after her. She could hear her friends instantly begin casting spells though which ones, she couldn't tell; she had lost sight of the silver key in the confusion and was now staring around frantically for it. She finally spotted it and willed her broom to go faster, shooting straight after it.

It was an easy catch; the broken wing made the key very slow. Linnea leaned forwards on the broom and brought it down for a smooth landing. When she unmounted it, the other keys stopped following her and went back to their benign state.

'I'm sorry, something is very wrong here,' Pansy said, a deep frown on her face. 'These "protections" are much too simple - not that you're a bad flier or anything, Potter, but -'

'No, I agree,' Linnea said hastily as she went to the door, put the key in and turned it. When the lock clicked open, the key dislodged itself and went up to rejoin its fellows, now looking even more battered. 'Like I said, I expected nothing short of incredible from Professor Flitwick - charms are the basic foundation of protective magic, you know.'

'You can go express your disappointment in him later, Potter - though I would hold it off until after he's graded your Charms exam,' Pansy said snidely. 'We should keep moving if we want to catch up to Quirrell.'

Linnea stuck her tongue out at her Slytherin friend then smiled and nodded. Her friends all gathered around her and she took another breath before flinging the door open, her wand pointing forward as she did so.

'Another dark corridor,' Leanne said dispassionately. 'Not very creative, are they?'

'Let's go,' Linnea said, lighting her wand and leading the way once more. Silence enveloped them yet again as they cautiously made their way through the stone corridor. It was shorter than the last one, and they soon came to another door. The girls took a moment to compose themselves before charging through.

They found themselves on the edge of a giant chessboard; they were on the black side and facing the white chess pieces behind which they could spot the door to move on. Even as they noticed that there were five black pieces missing, they heard an ear-splitting roar and crash coming from the room beyond; their eyes widened as they looked at each other.

'What was that?' Leanne whispered urgently.

'It was a troll,' Hermione answered, its roar being only too familiar to her. 'That was Professor Quirrell's protection, remember? He must have just thrashed it.'

'That means we're not far behind,' Linnea exclaimed excitedly - then her face fell. 'Actually, it doesn't matter; playing an entire game of chess must have taken him some time - just as much time as it'll take us, if not more.'

'I'm sure you're tired of hearing me say things like this, but _seriously_?' Pansy snorted with a derisive roll of her eyes. 'A chess match? Even _Muggles_ know about chess, for Merlin's sake! And here I was thinking that Professor McGonagall would be the toughest to get past.'

'You know how to play, then?' Leanne asked hopefully.

Pansy hesitated before saying in barely more than a mumble, 'I know how the pieces move, but I don't actually play.'

'That's a good way to get ourselves killed,' said Su, to which Pansy responded with a sneer. 'You've seen a game of Wizard's Chess, haven't you? The pieces are destroyed during the game and repaired after it's over. We're flesh and blood, so we can't rely on being repaired.'

'Not to mention that the pieces are seriously armed - we'd be in a world of pain even if they didn't outright kill us,' Linnea said as she took in the swords and maces that some of the chess pieces carried.

'So we can't play because none of us is sufficiently confident in their ability in the game,' said Hermione. 'So what do we do now?'

They all lapsed into silence as they thought. After a moment, Su said, 'Professor Quirrell can't be sure that we've followed him this far -'

'- which means we can set a trap for him when he comes back!' Leanne finished excitedly.

'Yes, because that worked out so well for us last time.'

'We're better prepared now, Pansy,' Linnea said. 'We should spread ourselves out and hide behind some of the chess pieces. While he's distracted with one or two of us, the rest try to hit him with a Body-Bind from behind or the side before he uses the spell to check if there's anyone else around - in short, we'll need to distract him.' She paused, then looked at the white pieces across the board. 'We probably won't be able to take position among the white pieces; they would probably murder us if we tried without winning the game first. That means we'll have to hide on this side.'

'That's fine, but what if he gets past us again? We need some kind of backup, Lin,' Hermione pointed out.

Linnea stared down at her shoes and bit her lip as she thought. After half a minute or so, she looked up and said, 'Two of us can stand guard back in the flying key room. I can't be sure, but maybe if its door isn't completely closed, you can take the broom without the keys swarming around you - that'll let one of us stay behind the door and another one in the air waiting for him in case he gets past the other three. If the one on the ground keeps him occupied, I'm positive it would be easily to land a hit - he would never expect an attack from the air.'

Linnea waited as her friends considered the plan; she smiled when she saw that they looked impressed.

'It's a shame you don't play chess, Potter; that's not a bad strategy. I think I'll go back to Flitwick's room - but I'm not very good with brooms. Will you come too, Potter?'

'No, she shouldn't,' Hermione said at once. 'Professor Quirrell will get very suspicious if he doesn't see her; I'm sure he thinks of Lin as his greatest threat at the moment, so he'll expect to see her at some point along the way. We can tell him we lost two to Fluffy or the Devil's Snare - or that they hit their heads when he blasted us away.'

More silence followed Hermione's suggestions. Pansy's eyebrows were raised.

'I have to say, we are a smart group of girls, aren't we?' she said smugly. 'So who's going to take the broom?'

'I'm not bad at flying, actually - though I can't hold a candle to Lin,' Leanne said hesitantly. 'I'll go.'

Pansy nodded with a smile and said, 'Just don't mess up, Taylor.'

'Same to you, Parkinson.'

The girls all looked at each other, laughing softly; they were committed.

'Okay, we have our plan,' Linnea said happily. 'Do what you can to get the Stone away from Professor Quirrell - assuming he gets it - but stay safe. I'd hate to lose any of you in any way.'

'Me too.'

They all looked around at Su in a little surprise; unable to bear the attention, the shy girl looked down at the floor, blushing slightly. Pansy gave another little laugh and wrapped an arm around Su's shoulders.

'I'm so proud of you, Ravenclaw; when we first met you were trying so hard to act all cold and bitchy - and now here we find that underneath it all, you're as much of a big softy as Potter -'

'I'm not a softy,' Linnea interrupted, trying to sound offended but ending up with a huge grin on her face.

'Of course you aren't,' replied Pansy indulgently. 'The point is that little Su has been trying so hard to open up ever since the start of second term and here she is now telling us that she wouldn't want any of us to die - including me! I think I might just cry, as a matter of fact…'

'Stop it,' Su said as firmly as her quiet voice possibly could. 'We need to get moving; we don't know when Professor Quirrell might come back.'

'Right,' Linnea said hastily, suddenly reminded of their situation. 'Good luck, everyone. Hopefully when this is over we'll all be sitting on Professor Quirrell and laughing our heads off.'

'And then we'll be able to continue with our exams,' Hermione added excitedly, to which the others, even Su, responded with a small sigh.

* * *

With the faintest _pop_ heralding his arrival, Albus Dumbledore appeared before the front gates of Hogwarts. He gazed up at the thousand-year-old castle in fondness, his eyes twinkling. He loved the school and what it represented. He was always pleased to remind himself that the castle was his great fortress, his stronghold. He was frighteningly powerful anywhere, he knew, but at Hogwarts, he alone held dominion.

He had ridden a Thestral to London to answer the summons from the Ministry of Magic - which he had known to be fake and fabricated by Professor Quirrell. He knew that he would make his attempt on the Philosopher's Stone this evening; he had purposefully taken himself out of the way to allow him his opportunity. He had worked it all out: his absence, along with that of Severus, as Professor Quirrell was likely to make sure he wouldn't be able to interfere, would leave Linnea Potter with no one to turn to other than the Deputy Headmistress, who was of course in charge while he wasn't present in the castle. He had no doubt that Minerva's faith in the protections he had suggested would keep her from taking the girl seriously. That would leave Linnea Potter with one choice: to try keeping the Stone away from Professor Quirrell herself.

He tapped his wand on the wrought iron gates with winged boars flanking them and they immediately opened for the Headmaster of the school. He strode forward, his purple robes, silver hair and beard fluttering in the slight wind as he stowed his wand away. The sun had already set, and the stars were just beginning to flare into view while the crescent moon stood out against the violet sky.

He had set up the events of the school year in accordance with Linnea Potter's arrival at Hogwarts; when Professor Quirrell had returned from Albania, where his sources told him Lord Voldemort had been residing at the time acting more than a little strange, Albus knew that it was more than likely that the young man had come into contact with Voldemort. He knew that the fallen Dark Lord would love nothing more than to have someone loyal to him in Albus' camp, as he once believed he had. And so Albus convinced his old friend Nicholas Flamel to give him the Philosopher's Stone so that he could "protect" it at Hogwarts - all to lure Voldemort, whom he knew had to be desperate to return to power, to the castle - the castle where his nemesis, Linnea Potter, had just arrived.

Albus knew that Voldemort wouldn't pass up an opportunity to regain his former glory and get a measure of the little girl that had stopped his reign ten years ago. He knew that he was close by - Hagrid's reports on something in the Forbidden Forest killing unicorns and drinking their blood was all the confirmation he needed. How close he was he couldn't be sure, but he felt confident that the Dark Lord would intervene in his and Professor Quirrell's plan to steal the Stone in some way; Voldemort would never rest his fate in the hands of another.

He could only hope that Linnea Potter would answer the call; if she had been a Gryffindor, he was sure that the need to hold true to the tenets of the house of the brave - the need to felt like she belonged - would have been all she needed to dive headfirst into action. But she was not a Gryffindor, she was a Hufflepuff. As much as Albus held respect for Hufflepuff House, as it was an indispensable part of Hogwarts, it was not known for an abundance of magical achievements, though a few had cropped up time and again. Her placement in Hufflepuff only assured Albus that Linnea Potter was hardworking, loyal and valued fair play - but that did nothing to dissuade any of the fears he had as to her true nature. Being hardworking could mean that she would do whatever she could to achieve her goals, however sinister they might be; she could be loyal to a terrible cause; fair play had calmed him for a moment until he heard of the duel she had had with Ron Weasley.

He had been dismayed to learn that Linnea Potter's preferred method to settle a dispute with anyone who annoyed her was violence. He had tried to calm himself with the knowledge that she had given the youngest Weasley boy a chance to defend himself; theoretically, the duel could have gone either way. But eventually, he couldn't lie to himself. The description he had received told him that while Linnea Potter was as of yet unwilling to jinx a defenseless person, settling a score hadn't been on her agenda; from what he had gleaned from Minerva and Pomona, he was confident that she could have ended that duel in an instant, perhaps with a single Body-Bind Curse on young Ronald. Instead, she had drawn the fight out, laughing at him and mocking him. She had wanted to humiliate Ronald Weasley, demonstrating her power and prowess to the other students - and she had enjoyed it immensely. Getting the seventh year Metamorphmagus to teach her dueling had obviously been a mistake.

Albus had hoped that by putting Linnea Potter in the care of her Muggle relatives far from the Wizarding world, she would grow to be humble, as she would effectively have been raised as a Muggle child, owing to their hatred of all things magical. He had hoped that this humility would have tempered her discovery of her powers and her fame. His hopes had been dashed. While she didn't brag or flaunt her fame, she certainly didn't shirk away from it, either - she used it to achieve her own ends. He had known that when she came to Hogwarts that she would be starved of friendship which would have enabled him, in accordance with the shy image he had had for her, to dictate the friends and associations she would make - the right people who would keep her tethered on the right side. But she had deviated away from that. He knew of the abuses she had suffered under her relatives' care, but instead of becoming downtrodden, she seemed to have sworn to herself that she would get even with them one day - and she had no doubt taken the discovery of her magical abilities as a means to that end.

She had surprised every Head of House on just her first day of school, which pointed to extensive practise of magic before she came to Hogwarts. He couldn't be absolutely positive, but he was sure, judging from what he had learned from the duel, that she had done something to get her revenge upon her relatives. And now, in defiance to their determination to have kept her friendless, she was using her fame and talent to make herself popular among the students - not to mention the teachers. She had even surrounded herself with a select band of students - all, as their teachers reported, heavily gifted in some way or another in the magical arts. Other than the facts that she was female, didn't seem to care about blood status and didn't look down on the other houses, she reminded Albus of a young Voldemort far too much for his liking.

Albus was very worried about what Linnea Potter could turn into. He was well aware that there was no guarantee of her being against the Dark Arts, whatever the events of her past may have shown. He hoped that an encounter with the Dark Lord would turn her away from them and keep her securely on the right side. And so he had orchestrated tonight's events. He was confident that the abilities she had displayed thus far would be able to carry her through the protections surrounding the Stone, and she would meet Professor Quirrell - and hopefully Voldemort in some fashion - at the Mirror of Erised; he had no doubt that Professor Quirrell would not be able to get the Stone. He needed to test her mettle, to learn just how capable she was at the moment. Her handling of the troll on Halloween had given him an idea; she must have been aware that spells of a physical force in nature such as the Severing and Fire Charm would be much more effective against a troll's magic-resistant hide as opposed to magical force spells like the Body Bind Curse - all the evidence and testimony from that night pointed to it. But he needed to know more…

He had reached the great double doors that stood as portal between the Entrance Courtyard and the Entrance Hall. He flicked his wand and they immediately swung open. Without delay, he strode towards the third floor corridor.

* * *

They could suddenly hear Professor Quirrell's voice coming towards them from the room beyond; he was laughing maniacally. The looks Linnea, Su and Hermione exchanged communicated the same thing: he had managed to acquire the Philosopher's Stone.

He burst into the chess room, cackling madly while staring down at the blood red stone in his hand. Seeing that he wasn't paying much attention to his surroundings in his glee, Linnea dove out from behind a black pawn and sent another Body-Bind Curse at him; the professor looked up just in time to deflect it. He scowled and stowed the Stone within his robes.

'You are stubborn, aren't you, girl?' he spat.

'We all have our faults,' Linnea replied, trying to sound nonchalant.

'Yes, we do,' Professor Quirrell agreed, pointing his wand at her. 'I daresay your pathetic ambushes would have worked if you could do nonverbal spellcasting but as it is, you're just a weak little girl.'

Linnea jumped out of the way of a purple spell he shot at her; she had no idea what it was, seeing as she didn't know any purple spells, but was immensely glad she had dodged it when her left robe sleeve was incinerated as it passed.

'_Fumos Tria!_' she cried, pointing her wand at the floor. The smokescreen that erupted where she pointed her wand was much more voluminous than the one she had created during her duel with Ron Weasley; it spread out, covering about half of the width of the cavernous room. She took cover behind another chess piece just as a second spell went whizzing through the space she had just vacated. She looked to her left and saw Su edging out from behind another piece just as she was sure Hermione was doing.

Linnea couldn't hear the jinx that the Chinese girl sent at the thieving professor, but she could tell that it didn't find its mark. Then she heard Hermione's clear shout of, '_Petrificus Tota -_'

'_Imperio!_'

Hermione suddenly fell silent and Linnea felt her heart jump up to her throat; she looked at Su and saw that she was just as worried. Then she saw her eyes widen as she looked past Linnea and the Hufflepuff looked back to see Hermione standing before them, perfectly okay. She had just broken into a smile when the bushy-haired girl raised her wand, pointed it at Su and fired off another Body-Bind Curse that hit her squarely in the chest; the young Ravenclaw went rigid as a board and crashed onto the ground.

'Hermione!' Linnea yelled, turning her wand to point at her friend, whom she noticed seemed to be getting a glassy look out of her eyes at the moment. 'What are you doing?'

'Huh? Lin?' Hermione asked, shaking her head as though to clear it of fog and looking immensely confused. 'What just happ -?'

A red spell crashed into Hermione and she immediately slumped onto the floor, unconscious. Linnea had just managed to scream her name before she was forced to duck behind a chess piece to avoid another spell. She peeked out and saw that her smokescreen had disappeared; Professor Quirrell had obviously cleared it when she and Su had been distracted with wondering if Hermione was all right.

'Foolish girls,' Professor Quirrell called derisively as he sent another red spell at Su's prone form. As far as Linnea could tell, it had just rendered her unconscious; she knew that even under the Body-Bind Curse, someone still remained conscious. When the spell connected with Su, however, she saw her friend's eyes close. She turned to look worriedly at Hermione as well, hoping that that was all the red spell had done to them.

'Is this all the great Linnea Potter is capable of?' Professor Quirrell asked contemptuously. 'Is this the ability of the Girl Who Lived? I thought that you may have had something in you to kill that troll on Halloween, Potter. Are you really so useless?'

'You haven't managed to get me yet have you, _Professor_?' Linnea said back, throwing as much mockery into the last word as she could.

'Please - you and your fellow whores are only alive because I allow it.' He was trying to sound calm, but Linnea could hear the anger and impatience in Professor Quirrell's voice; she knew he was desperate to get out of there and run off with the Stone to present to Voldemort. 'Do you really think I couldn't kill a bunch of first years if I wanted to?'

'Then why don't you?' Linnea asked, even as her better judgment was shouting at her to remain silent and not say what she was thinking of saying. 'Wouldn't it be better for you to leave no witnesses?'

'It would,' said Professor Quirrell, 'but leaving you and your wretched friends alive would serve my purposes; you see, the great fool Dumbledore saw fit not to inform the Ministry of Magic of his possession of the Philosopher's Stone. All I have to do is modify your memories and none of them would be none the wiser; when you are found unconscious down here, they will all think that you were merely out of bounds. A bunch of first year corpses would launch a full-scale investigation.'

'I'm impressed that you can think so well, Professor. But that means that you need to first subdue me in order to escape. I won't give you a chance to.'

The cold voice of Voldemort laughed uproariously at that, but it was a strange sort of laugh to Linnea - cruel and sadistic. It sent unwanted shivers down her spine.

'Well, well, it seems the girl has a smidgen of bravery in her,' the voice said in what she assumed was mild appreciation. 'Not to mention cunning; I do believe, young Quirrell, that Potter plans to stall us by talking until Dumbledore has had enough time to return to the castle.'

'Out of the way, Potter!' Professor Quirrell spat.

'I'm not going anywhere, and neither are you,' Linnea said firmly.

Voldemort's voice cackled. 'Interesting…it seems you are not as pathetic as I first thought, Potter. I am sure you already know who I am, we were so close ten years ago, after all. But you would not remember what I looked like - and I am curious as to what you look like now. Quirrell, let me see her.' Linnea heard the sounds of shuffling cloth for a moment before the voice said, 'Come now, Linnea, I have just made myself presentable so as to speak to you face-to-face. You wouldn't want to be rude, would you?'

Unable to control herself, Linnea poked her head out to look around the giant chess piece she was hiding behind - and nearly screamed at what she saw. Professor Quirrell had taken his turban off and turned away from her but instead of the back of a head, she saw a face - a terrible, otherworldly face; it was chalk white and snake-like if anything, with blazing red eyes with slits for pupils, a thin, lipless mouth and slits for nostrils where a nose should have been. She stared, transfixed and horrified at the same time.

'Ah, I can see that you will turn into quite a beauty, just like your dear mother.'

At the mention of her mother, Linnea's reason kicked in once more and she fired another Body-Bind Curse - which was as effective as all her previous ones.

'My girl, you must learn to use a variety of spells, though I do understand your intentions; it must be the only spell you know of that will incapacitate someone without giving them a chance to lift it off themselves.' Voldemort laughed again. 'It wasn't polite of you to fire at me when I just wanted to see you though, Linnea - you are in need of a lesson in manners. As much as I would like to be the one to teach them to you, that must wait until another day. Quirrell - get her and let us be gone.'

Professor Quirrell strode forwards, his wand pointing out while Voldemort shrieked with insane laughter. Her eyes widened, Linnea dove behind another chess piece just as the top half of the one she had been hiding behind burst into rubble.

'Be careful not to kill her, Quirrell - we do not want the Ministry investigating the death of a student, remember?' Voldemort hissed.

'Yes, Master.'

Professor Quirrell chased her around the black chess pieces, blasting them out of the way. Panic welled up inside her as she struggled to think of a way out of this horrible situation. She knew that Voldemort wouldn't kill her - not yet - but she couldn't let him get away with the Stone; he would return to power and _then_ come for her with a vengeance. She would have called out for help from Pansy and Leanne, but knew that if they couldn't hear the sounds of the chess pieces being destroyed they wouldn't be able to hear her voice. She darted around, very much aware that she was running out of places behind which she could take cover - and once that happened it would be all over. She knew that she couldn't hurt Professor Quirrell…

But could she hurt Voldemort? The idea came to her so suddenly that she almost stopped moving in order to consider it. Forcing herself to keep going with just three pawns and the queen, rook and knight to hide behind, she mulled it over. She had now confirmed that Voldemort was in a very weakened state - he needed to share a body with Professor Quirrell, after all. But then didn't that mean that he was effectively Professor Quirrell's weak point? He wouldn't be able to protect himself from a spell - not if Professor Quirrell was too busy protecting _himself_. She would need to distract him somehow…

Another idea came to her. She ran to take cover behind the rook, which completely towered over even Professor Quirrell and fired off another spell at random to alert the deranged teacher of her position. Then she concentrated - concentrated harder than she ever had before. Remembering her lessons with Professor McGonagall, she focused as much of her magical essence as she could into her wand in preparation to cast the spell.

'Have you finally stopped scurrying around, Potter?'

Professor Quirrell was almost in position. She waited…one, two…three!

'_Flipendo!_'

The powerful Knockback Jinx instantly caused the rook to keel over; Professor Quirrell yelled in surprise and brought his wand up to stop it from crushing him. Just as she had hoped, it was too heavy for him to instantly cast away. And so she took her chance and ran around her foe, bringing her wand up to point at Voldemort, whose scarlet eyes widened.

'Turn around, you fool!' he screamed, just as Professor Quirrell threw the great stone rook away from himself. But it was too late.

In that moment, when she faced her parents' murderer, the one who was responsible for her living with the Dursleys and the subsequent tortures she had endured, not to mention her being kept from the Wizarding world she had come to love, all thoughts of capture flew from her mind. The same kind of fury she had experienced on Halloween when she had killed the troll spread through her again. She said, '_Diffindo!_' and watched as a large black gash opened up across Voldemort's face.

Black smoke flew up out of the wound as both Voldemort and Professor Quirrell screamed in agony, the latter turning back around to face her, his arms flailing wildly. Linnea saw his wand tip light and a spell fire from it, but it never got anywhere near her. She took careful aim and cast the Severing Charm once more; it sliced through the young teacher's neck and his head toppled off his shoulders and rolled onto the ground even as the rest of his body crumpled.

The deafening silence that followed was only broken by her harsh and fast breathing. She stared down at what she had done, her wand still held out before her. She had actually _killed_ someone.

_I - I'm a murderer now_, she thought, horrified, as the yew wand cluttered down onto the stone floor.

_No, you aren't_, another part of her mind argued. _It was self-defense. It isn't like you actually _planned_ to kill him - it just happened_.

_I wasn't thinking - I totally lost it -_

_You were facing the man who murdered your parents and then tried to kill you. How could you not lose it?_

As Linnea's mind was raging in battle against itself and her eyes were staring unseeingly at Professor Quirrell's corpse, she didn't notice the strange black smoke that rose up from the dead professor's body in a thick voluminous mass; it hurtled away from her back towards the flying key room. Barely a minute later, she heard hurried footsteps.

'Lin!' Leanne shouted. 'Are you okay? We just saw some weird -' She stopped abruptly, her hand flying up to her mouth as her eyes fell on the scene of Linnea standing over her victim's body.

'Morgana's breath,' Pansy whispered incredulously, drawing up alongside Leanne. 'Potter - what the hell happened?'

No answer came.


	14. Article and Aftermath

It paid to have sources in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement - Rita Skeeter knew this better than anyone, seeing as how she had several. She strolled along the corridors of Level Two of the Ministry of Magic, crocodile-skin handbag slung over her left shoulder and eyes darting back and forth in an attempt to spot anything that would give her a good story. Many of the Ministry employees she passed recognized her and averted their gazes, which caused a happy smirk to cross her lips. It always felt good to know that you were feared.

She had gotten a massive tip two nights ago - something unbelievable. She had already been gathering as much information as she could on the Girl Who Lived when she got wind of the fact that she had finally arrived at Hogwarts. She was friendly with a few people who had children at the school, and they had been more than willing to pass along whatever they could glean on Linnea Potter from the owls that their kids sent them - for a small price, of course. Rita didn't mind paying for knowledge; information trading was the way her world worked, and she was an expert on it.

The facts that she had gotten so far on Linnea's first year in school paled in comparison to what she had just heard. That was why she was here, to get as much as she could straight from the horse's mouth - she would not risk any of her rivals intercepting anything from her source. She walked into the Investigation Department and being familiar with the area, went right to the room she was looking for.

She found a tall brown-haired woman examining something laid upon the table before her - a corpse. A headless corpse, to be precise. Rita didn't feel the slightest bit squeamish at the sight of a body; she had covered the Death Eater trials during the end of the first war with You-Know-Who, after all, and she had seen her fair share of them then. All she felt was a mounting excitement.

'Amanda Brocklehurst,' Rita said with a wide smile in greeting; the brown-haired woman turned towards her and a smile split her face as well.

'Rita Skeeter - it's been too long.' The two women gave each other a short hug. 'I hope you aren't here to destroy my fragile reputation.'

'You know why I'm here, Amanda,' Rita said. 'Though if you could tell me of a few skeletons hidden in our fine government's closet, I would be more than happy.'

'Of course; I haven't forgotten your taste for bringing giants down. I'm a little short of gossip at the moment, though - unless you want to talk about dead Hogwarts teachers.'

'I would love to,' Rita said sweetly; she pulled a notebook and blue quill out of her handbag - this was no job for a Quick-Quotes Quill, she knew. She sucked on the quill for a moment then put it to paper, where it balanced perfectly. 'I have to say, I nearly drowned in my whiskey glass when I read your owl. So what have you got?'

'Just what you can see - a decapitated Hogwarts teacher. Professor Quirrell, in charge of Defense Against the Dark Arts.'

'Ah, he got the _cursed_ job - explains a lot. How was he killed?'

'A Severing Charm,' Amanda answered, glancing at the blue quill that was feverishly taking notes. 'The caster was quite powerful; normally a first year Severing Charm would just create a cut, but this one went right through the man's neck.'

'First year? So it's true then? Linnea Potter killed her teacher?' Rita was feeling that intoxicating, giddy excitement she got whenever she was on the verge of a front page story.

'I wasn't sure when I sent you the owl, but I am now; I got confirmation from one of my friends who's out investigating at Hogwarts.'

'Why did she kill him? It must have been exam time - was she that depressed with her grades?'

'It was almost certainly self-defense; other than the Severing Charm, I've detected traces of Dark magic.'

'Dark magic?' Rita repeated incredulously. 'What kind?'

'I haven't the faintest idea,' Amanda said with a disgruntled snort. 'I've never seen anything like it. It did leave its mark, though.'

Amanda went to a small black bag that lay next to Professor Quirrell's body. She opened it and revealed the man's head, which she turned around for Rita to see its back. She gasped when she saw much of the skin grotesquely burned and blackened.

'Well isn't that interesting? Completely no idea on what could have caused it?' When Amanda shook her head, Rita asked, 'You said that it was "almost certainly self-defense". What do you mean?'

'It's just that I can't imagine anyone, even a Dark wizard, casting a spell that would do _this_ to them, and the damage seems to have been caused right at the moment he died. On the other hand, I can't imagine a first year being able to cast something that could have this kind of effect, no matter how powerful she might be. We also have confirmation from the girl's wand that she did indeed kill him using the Severing Charm. There's so much about this that doesn't make sense.'

'What about Dumbledore? Has he said anything?'

'You should know better by now,' Amanda said with another snort. 'Tight-lipped old codger.'

'That he is - which is why I was so surprised that the Ministry got wind of the situation; I would have thought that Dumbledore would have kept everything quiet.'

'He couldn't. For one thing, there was a body, which I would wager would have been seen by some of the staff and more than a few students as it was carried out - and they would have told their parents, wouldn't they? For another, the Potter girl wasn't alone - she was with four others, her friends. The story they're telling is that apparently they were trying to stop Quirrell from stealing a Philosopher's Stone that was being protected at Hogwarts. And they mentioned…You-Know-Who.'

Rita gasped again, before the feeling of excitement threatened to drive her out of her mind; this was just getting better and better.

'You-Know-Who? Really? What did they say about him?'

'All that the investigators managed to get on that topic was that the girls believed Quirrell was working for You-Know-Who; he was going to steal whatever artifact was at Hogwarts for him. That was about the time that Dumbledore had the investigators leave.'

Amanda raised an eyebrow at Rita, who was literally bouncing in her excitement. It had been quite a while since she had last seen her favorite reporter like this - not that she couldn't understand why.

'Is there anything else that you can tell me?'

'Not at the moment, no,' Amanda said, shaking her head again. 'I'll send you an owl, of course, if I learn more.'

'Thanks. I owe you big for this - how about a drink later?'

'That would be highly appreciated.'

'I'll tell you when and where. Let me just go keep these notes somewhere safe - and do a little more snooping,' said Rita, staring at her notebook as though it were a treasure beyond reckoning as she put it back in her handbag along with her quill. She left the room with a wave of farewell towards her friend. She smiled as headlines popped up in her head. She almost felt like she should thank Linnea Potter; thanks to her being such a fascinating little girl, Rita Skeeter was once again going to rock the Wizarding world with a story.

* * *

Linnea was walking slowly through the halls of Hogwarts school, looking down at the floor; many people stared at her as she passed and for the first time she could remember, no one was calling out to her in greeting. Instead, they were whispering to each other.

It had been just over a week since the incident with Professor Quirrell and Voldemort; she and her friends - Su and Hermione had thankfully been unharmed apart from their unconsciousness - had been given two days to recuperate, and then they had taken the rest of their exams. Members of the Investigation Department from the Ministry of Magic had dropped by to question the girls. Linnea had been terrified that she would find herself in a cell in the Wizarding prison, Azkaban, but everyone seemed to believe them when they explained that it had indeed been a case of self-defense.

She came up to the gargoyle that protected the Headmaster's office; she had received a missive from Professor Dumbledore requesting a meeting with her after she was done with her Magical History exam, which she had just completed. She spoke the password and went up to find him sitting at his desk, the tips of his fingers pressed together.

'Ah, Linnea - please take a seat.' Linnea went and settled into the same chair she had used during her Christmas meeting with Professor Dumbledore. 'May I offer you a lemon drop?'

'No thank you, Professor.'

Professor Dumbledore nodded and then asked, 'How was your final exam?'

'Not as bad as I expected; I'm a lot better at practicals than theory, but Magical History doesn't have a practical bit so I was very nervous about it - almost as nervous as I was during the Transfiguration exam. But I think I did well enough to earn at least an E.'

'Splendid,' Professor Dumbledore said with a smile. 'I hope you will have been able to do yourself justice.' He peered at her over his half-moon glasses and asked, 'How are you feeling?'

'Fine, sir,' Linnea responded with a shrug.

'Linnea, you watched a man die at your hands.'

'I don't need you to remind me of that, sir.'

Professor Dumbledore's eyes widened at the icy quality of her voice and the glare that she was giving him.

'Pardon my bluntness, Linnea, but I merely meant to point out that someone who has gone through what you did could not possibly be "fine",' he said morosely.

'Well, I am; I've come to terms with what happened and what I did,' said Linnea. 'I'm just glad that me and my friends are all right. I wasn't trying to get Professor Quirrell, anyway - I wanted to hurt Voldemort. Professor Quirrell should have known what could happen for allowing that monster to share his body.'

'You do not feel sorry for Professor Quirrell? Do you not feel remorse?'

Linnea stared at Professor Dumbledore for a long time before abruptly saying, 'I am very sorry for the loss of a life, but when I think about what that man chose his life to amount to, I find it hard to feel sorry for him as a person. He was going to help Voldemort come back with the means to create an immortal army and as much gold as he could possibly need; I've read enough about the first war to know that that couldn't be allowed to happen. Professor Quirrell deserved what he got.'

'That isn't for you to decide, Linnea,' Professor Dumbledore protested, his eyebrows raised.

'I didn't - Professor Quirrell decided that for himself when he sided with Voldemort,' Linnea retorted.

Linnea and Professor Dumbledore stared at each other in the eye for a long time before Linnea started to squirm uncomfortably; she felt like the Headmaster was trying to see through her somehow. He eventually looked down at his desk and sighed heavily, his expression very grave.

'May I ask what will be done to the Stone, Professor?' asked Linnea.

Professor Dumbledore hesitated before saying, 'It will be destroyed.'

'Destroyed? Won't Nicholas Flamel die without it, sir?'

'Yes, he will - which is why I called you here, Linnea.' When he noticed Linnea raise an inquisitive eyebrow, Professor Dumbledore elaborated, 'Nicholas wanted to thank you and your friends for fighting to protect his Philosopher's Stone as much as you did. By doing this, you see, you were all effectively fighting for both his and his wife's lives.'

'What does that matter if you're going to destroy the Stone anyway?'

'Nicholas and I had a discussion and decided that it was best if the Stone was put out of the reach of Voldemort or any other who would use it for unsavory ends. The only way to ensure that would be to destroy the Stone. He is currently at work setting his affairs in order before he dies - and one of these affairs was to thank the five first years who so bravely tried to keep his Stone from being used for evil.'

Professor Dumbledore dipped his hand into a pocket in his robes and withdrew two keys that Linnea instantly recognized as Gringotts vault keys.

'Nicholas has seen fit to grant you each a small portion of the fortune that he and his wife have amassed in all the years that they have been in this world. One hundred thousand Galleons will go to you and each of your friends - more than a hefty sum for students your age. Since you, Miss Parkinson and Miss Taylor already have your own Gringotts accounts, the gold has already been added onto what you already had. As for Miss Li and Miss Granger, Nicholas took the liberty of opening accounts for them both and depositing the money; these are the keys. I would ask you to pass them along, and inform them of what they have acquired.'

Linnea reached out, took the two keys and put them in her pocket. She looked back at Professor Dumbledore and asked, 'This reward is for all of us - why didn't you call my friends here as well, sir?'

Professor Dumbledore stared at her for a long time before saying, 'I wished to speak to you alone, Linnea. I wanted to see how you were dealing with the death of Professor Quirrell.'

'Are you disappointed, sir?'

The silence that followed was more than enough to answer Linnea's question. She sighed and looked around; Dumbledore's phoenix was staring at her with keen curiosity, as were the hundred or so portraits of whom she assumed to be former Heads of Hogwarts. Even the Sorting Hat was openly staring at her. When Linnea looked back at Professor Dumbledore, she could see that he still looked like she had broken his heart.

'I must say that I am disappointed in you as well, Professor,' she said.

Professor Dumbledore raised his eyebrows before saying, 'May I ask why?'

'Your protection of the Philosopher's Stone was flimsy at best,' Linnea answered bluntly. 'I've read enough to also know that you are a highly intelligent man, Professor - many call you the greatest wizard of this age, and such a reputation isn't lightly won. So I find it hard to understand why someone so clever would have protected something as important as the Philosopher's Stone with obstacles that could be breached by virtually anyone who is at least a first year. The only reason we didn't get past Professor McGonagall's room was because none of us was an active chess player and we had no idea of the skill level of the enemy chess pieces - we deemed it too risky, in short. I'm not sure what lay ahead, but if it was at the same level as what we had already faced, then it can't have been much, with the exception of perhaps Fluffy; but I think it's safe to say that Hagrid isn't the best at keeping secrets - he obviously told Professor Quirrell how to get past him since I'm sure you didn't, assuming that you knew.'

Professor Dumbledore was once again staring with an uncomfortable amount of keenness at Linnea. 'How would you have proposed that I protect the Stone?'

'I have no idea; I'm only a first year after all, sir,' Linnea said with a shrug. 'But I know that you and the other teachers are far more capable than what those protections showed. I assumed that you would have left your own for last, and was quite surprised that Professor Quirrell managed to get the Stone so fast. Just what was your protection, if I may ask, sir?'

Professor Dumbledore gazed at her for a long time before he answered, 'I used the Mirror of Erised; only someone who wanted to find the Stone and not use it would have been able to get it.'

Linnea did a little staring of her own. 'I'm sorry to say, Headmaster, that that was a very big oversight; Professor Quirrell wanted the Stone, but to give it to someone else, not to use it. That would fall directly in the parameters you set, wouldn't it?'

Professor Dumbledore couldn't remember any student - or any adult, for that matter - speaking to him like this - like he was a child who had committed some petty act in their foolishness. It irked him more than he could have ever expected. Regardless, he could not refute her claims; he had put such protections in place on purpose in order to test her, after all. He could now see that Linnea Potter was vastly more intelligent than he had given her credit for. What disturbed him most was that it seemed to be geared towards spotting holes and weaknesses in people's character and behavior; he remembered all too well how fast she had deduced that he was the one who had sent her the Invisibility Cloak. Now she was indirectly accusing him of not doing his best in protecting the Philosopher's Stone - and she was, of course, completely correct. He was convinced, more than ever, that Linnea Potter was dangerous.

'I am afraid that you are right, Linnea,' he said, keeping his face as impassive as he possibly could.

Silenced reigned between the two for a long time; the Headmaster's phoenix let out a musical trill, as though saying he was very uncomfortable with the quiet. Eventually Linnea addressed Professor Dumbledore again.

'I have a question I would like you to answer if you could, Professor.'

'I will do my best. What would you like to know?'

'Could you tell me where my parents are buried, sir? Meeting Voldemort reminded me that they died so that I could live and yet I have never visited their graves. I'd like to do so.'

Again Professor Dumbledore lapsed into a long silence while his eyes remained unblinkingly fixed on her before saying, 'Your parents were laid to rest in Godric's Hollow; they owned a cottage there - it was where Voldemort attacked your family.'

'Godric's Hollow?' Linnea repeated. 'Any relation to Godric Gryffindor, sir?'

'Yes, it was Godric Gryffindor's birthplace. If you would like to visit the village, I would be more than happy to accompany you.'

'No, I think I'd like to visit them on my own, sir. I'll find my own way there somehow.'

Professor Dumbledore visibly sagged; Linnea supposed that she had said something else to disappoint the old man. But she would not budge on the issue to anyone; she wanted to see her parents' resting place alone for the first time at the very least.

'Was there anything else you wished to discuss with me, Professor?' she inquired.

'No, I think I've covered all I could want for the moment, Linnea,' Professor Dumblefore replied.

'May I be excused then? I'll be needed at my team's practice - the Hufflepuff-Slytherin match will be for the Quidditch Cup, you know.'

'Yes, I'm quite pleased and impressed with the performance that Hufflepuff House has shown this year,' Professor Dumbledore said, the customary twinkle back in his blue eyes. 'Having the Girl Who Lived join their ranks has done much to boost the Hufflepuffs' confidence and drive - especially with how well you've been doing in your first year here. Hufflepuff is lucky to have you, Linnea.'

'Thank you, Professor,' Linnea said with a genuine smile; she rose from her seat and exited the Headmaster's office.

'That girl is made of stern stuff,' the Sorting Hat observed. 'I'd wager you expected her to be a blubbering mess about her killing that teacher.'

'I do not think that her nonchalant attitude towards the death of a Professor by her own hands is something to admire,' Professor Dumbledore said lightly.

'What about _your _nonchalant attitude towards leaving her to be raised by people you knew would hate and abuse her?' the Sorting Hat retorted snidely. 'I'm sure you were hoping for them to turn her into a meek little girl, but it looks to have had the opposite effect - she seems quite hardened.

'Besides, how could you possibly expect her to weep for a man who sided with her parents' murderer? I agree with Potter: Quirrell reaped what he sowed. I felt echoes of what she could be, Dumbledore, but now I am certain - Linnea Potter will be a great witch.'

'There is no denying that the girl is strong - too strong, in my opinion. I am worried about what she will choose to do with her strength, and so far it does not bode well.'

As he thought more about Linnea Potter, Professor Dumbledore resolved to contact Arabella Figg and have her keep a much closer eye on the girl during the summer.

* * *

_**LINNEA POTTER'S FIRST YEAR AT HOGWARTS**_

_By Rita Skeeter_

_The Girl Who Lived. We all know her story - at least, as far as until she mysteriously disappeared from the Wizarding world as directed by the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Albus Dumbledore. Ten years ago, she saved our world from He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, the most feared and powerful Dark wizard of all time by surviving the dreaded Killing Curse - a feat thought to be impossible until a one-year-old girl actually managed to pull it off - and consequently causing the Dark Lord's much-appreciated disappearance. How she did it has been a source of much debate among members of our community. Could her ability to survive the Killing Curse be duplicated by others? One way or another, there is no doubt that the Wizarding world owes a great debt to Linnea Potter._

_Knowing this, many within the Wizarding community were heavily disheartened - with this reporter being among them - when Linnea Potter simply seemed to vanish. Many questions later, Albus Dumbledore, whom many consider to be the greatest wizard of the age, announced at a Wizengamot meeting that he had taken baby Potter to live with her Muggle relatives. At the time of this declaration, many witches and wizards wondered why Professor Dumbledore would possibly do such a thing - and what gave him the license to do it in the first place. As time went on, however, the Wizarding community fell into a state of resigned acceptance. No doubt the Headmaster's reputation and many accolades and titles gave him more than a little pull in this matter, but this reporter - and I feel sure in saying that I am not alone - would very much like to know exactly what happened that night._

_Regardless, it was with much joy and excitement that Linnea Potter was accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry at the start of the school year. She arrived at the school on September 1 along with her fellow first years and was sorted into Hufflepuff House - a great surprise for many._

"_Everyone was really surprised when she got sorted into Hufflepuff," says Gabriel Truman, a Hufflepuff prefect. "Most people were expecting her to end up in Gryffindor."_

_Over the years, the house of Hufflepuff has had a reputation of lackluster performance in school and life thereafter, be it in academics, magical achievements or Quidditch. Hufflepuff has ended up last in points in both the Hogwarts House Cup and Quidditch Cup for so many years that many have deemed it a house of 'leftovers'. This reporter can remember only too clearly how much Hufflepuff has been looked down upon by the other three houses, particularly Ravenclaw with Gryffindor being a close second. In the opinions of the majority of the Wizarding world, Hufflepuff is the poorest Hogwarts house._

_But then the Girl Who Lived joined their ranks, and their fortunes seemed to suddenly rise. According to a great many number of students, many of them being Hufflepuffs, Linnea Potter quickly established herself as the star of Hufflepuff - so much so that she is known throughout Hogwarts as the 'Hufflepuff Princess'._

"_She really blew everyone away on the first day of class,' Lavender Brown, Gryffindor first year says. 'Gryffindor has Transfiguration with the Hufflepuffs; she did the match-to-needle task in five seconds flat. I thought Professor McGonagall was going to pop a vein - you should have seen how surprised she was. Linnea said she'd been practising a lot before coming to Hogwarts, but that she wasn't as good at Transfiguration as she seemed. I thought she was just being modest, but after the introductory classes were over, I noticed she isn't as good at it as she is in the other subjects; it gives her a little trouble - but she's still better than most. And after she was done with her matchstick, she went around class giving out pointers; she's really sweet and likes to help people where she can. I only heard about the other classes, but from the way people were raving about her, I think I have a good idea of how well she did."_

"_She earned Hufflepuff fifty points on the first day," reports a Hufflepuff third year. "She even got some from Professor Snape in Potions. All I've ever done in that class is lose points, and that goes for most if not all of the other Hufflepuffs."_

"_Linnea's really amazing at Charms and Defense Against the Dark Arts," says Lisa Turpin, first year Ravenclaw. "Professor Flitwick is always complimenting her on how well she handles her wand - and it's a beauty of a wand, too; it's really long with a jewel and what I think is gold laid into it. I don't think it's an Ollivander wand…"_

"_Lin is great at Potions," Draco Malfoy, son of Lucius Malfoy and a first year Slytherin says. "She loses points in Professor Snape's class just like most people, but she more than makes up for it with the ones she gains; I think Professor Snape really likes her, not that it's particularly difficult to."_

_Many of the residents of Hogwarts attest to Linnea Potter's talent in the magical arts, particularly where practical work is concerned, which is where many confirm she earns the most house points. But it seems that the Girl Who Lived's talents are not confined to the classroom…_

"_Lin tried out for the house Quidditch team as a reserve Chaser and she got in," sixth year Hufflepuff Quidditch Captain, Malcolm Preece reveals. "In our first match, which was against Gryffindor, one of our Chasers got hurt and I had her take his place for the duration of the match. We - myself, my housemates and I'm sure all of Hogwarts - were so impressed with how well she did that I brought her up to starting Chaser. She's using our former starter's broom for the time being because first years can't get one of their own. I can't wait to see what she flies like when she gets her own broomstick."_

_Some of you readers may have attended Hogwarts while James Potter, Linnea's father, was there and can attest to his exemplary Quidditch skills, which earned him the much-contested title of best Hogwarts Quidditch player ever seen. It seems that Linnea has inherited his great talent on the pitch, as well as both his and her mother's magical prowess; you may also remember that both James and Lily Potter were among the most gifted of their peers at Hogwarts, both with straight-O grades throughout their years there, where they finished their great records by being Head Boy and Head Girl._

_Needless to say, many within our world were anticipating the Girl Who Lived to have a stellar run through Hogwarts, and she seems to be living up to those expectations. Intrigued, this reporter delved a little deeper into her social side in an attempt to learn how her fellow students perceive Linnea Potter._

"_She's very friendly - you could just walk up to her and chat and she'll accommodate you with a smile," confides an unnamed Ravenclaw student. "She doesn't seem to care about the house rivalries, either; she has a close friend in each house, and they keep really close to each other. They often have meals at each other's house table and they always study together. Lin is _very_ protective of them - just ask Ron Weasley."_

_The friends mentioned above are Pansy Parkinson of Slytherin, Su Li of Ravenclaw, Leanne Taylor of Hufflepuff and Hermione Granger of Gryffindor. Many readers will recognize the names 'Parkinson' and 'Taylor', as they are very prominent pureblood families; Miss Granger is a Muggleborn, and Miss Li is of unknown blood status or descent - she is, however, Muggle-raised. Of particular interest is the well-known fact that the Parkinson family supported the Dark Lord; with no evidence of being in any way connected to the Death Eaters or offering them any aid, the family has remained safe from persecution. But could Linnea Potter's close friendship with Pansy Parkinson point to something else? Or is the fact that Pansy Parkinson's family supported her parents' murderer of little consequence to Linnea Potter? Does she indeed believe that the sins of the family are not Pansy's own? Many within our world will doubtless be wary of this association, but this reporter finds her curiosity piqued…_

_Linnea Potter's first year at Hogwarts seems to have been going very well with Hufflepuff, whose desire to win seems to have shot through the roof since acquiring the Girl Who Lived, maintaining first place for both the House Cup and the Quidditch Cup. No one can seem to recall when Hufflepuff House wasn't in last place for both Cups, let alone in the lead. Many of her housemates attribute this success to Linnea herself._

"_It was a very big boost to the Hufflepuffs' confidence to have Lin in our house," says one Hufflepuff. "It isn't just because she's the Girl Who Lived - though that certainly doesn't hurt anything; Lin always puts her best foot forward in anything she does. When everyone heard just how well she did on her first day, all the Hufflepuffs seemed to agree not to let her down and let her efforts go to waste. I'm in sixth year right now, and I can honestly say that I've never seen my housemates so driven."_

_Everyone that this reporter spoke to seems to have nothing but praise for Linnea Potter. She has undoubtedly been a great credit to her house and I am sure that Hufflepuffs everywhere, be they current or alumni, are happy to have her on their side. While Linnea has had an undoubtedly successful year, it hasn't been without its bad spots._

_Recent events have come to light - events that took place at Hogwarts School with Linnea Potter right in the middle of everything. As has already been reported, Quirinus Quirrell, Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts, passed away a little over a week ago. According to sources within the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, however, it was Linnea Potter herself who killed Professor Quirrell - a truly shocking revelation._

"_She decapitated him using a Severing Charm," reveals an Investigation Department employee who wished to remain anonymous. "She must be _very_ strong for a first year to cast the charm with that much power behind it; most first years would only be able to cause nothing more than a cut, you see. While the Professor's death is regrettable, it should be known far and wide that it was a case of self-defense; Linnea Potter and her friends were in danger, and she did what she had to do to stay safe."_

_When asked how and why Linnea Potter would be in any danger, the Ministry worker continues to add, "According to the five girls, Professor Quirrell was trying to steal a Philosopher's Stone which was being protected at Hogwarts, presumably by Headmaster Dumbledore; they tried to stop him from doing so and things quickly escalated from there."_

_These revelations are baffling to say the least, and it seems that Professor Dumbledore has a lot of questions to answer. In the meantime, our appreciation must go out to the five girls who were brave and strong enough to stand up for what is right, even when their teachers presumably couldn't._

'Wow,' Linnea said, staring at the _Daily Prophet_. 'I knew I was popular, but I didn't think that people would have so many good things to say about me.'

'Are you kidding? I bet that in two years' time they'll want you to be Headmistress,' joked Leanne.

'This article is very factual,' Hermione observed. 'With celebrities in the Muggle world, you can never believe what's written about them in the papers.'

'Of course it's factual, it's by Rita Skeeter,' Pansy said as though that explained everything; when her three Muggle-raised friends stared at her blankly, she sighed and said, 'She's a very famous reporter. She writes for the _Daily Prophet_ and _Witch Weekly_. When she has a story in the _Daily Prophet_, you can be mostly sure it's true; when she writes in _Witch Weekly_, it's mostly gossip.'

'She has a reputation for disgracing big government officials - the Ministry of Magic isn't very fond of her,' Leanne chimed in brightly.

'She must have been watching us very closely to get this much information - though I honestly can't figure out how,' Linnea said.

'The best journalists have sources people wouldn't even imagine, and Rita Skeeter is certainly one of the best. I bet she interviewed a lot of the students who've been quoted over the Christmas and Easter holidays.'

'I don't suppose I mind; a girl can't complain about two pages of flattery in a newspaper's headline story,' Linnea said jokingly, resulting in a lot of snorting and eye rolling. 'Hey, don't be like that; you've been painted as courageous heroines too, you know.'

'She practically skimmed over the part about Professor Quirrell,' Hermione said with a frown once they were all done laughing at Linnea's comments.

'She's saving it for later,' Su explained. 'She's provided so little detail that everyone will be desperate to learn more about the incident, and the public will be even more curious about Linnea. Plus her wording has brought a lot of attention to the Hogwarts teachers, Professor Dumbledore in particular. She's done things in a way that will allow her to have at least two follow-up stories that everyone will be itching to read.'

The girls looked up at the Head Table; Professor Dumbledore and the other teachers were indeed looking a little more tense than the warm summer evening called for. Students were streaming into the Great Hall for the Leaving Feast - the last feast they would have at Hogwarts until the start of the next school year. Tomorrow, they would board the Hogwarts Express, which would take them back to London.

Linnea was not at all happy about leaving Hogwarts and going back to the Dursleys; she felt very welcome and at home within the castle. She had toyed with the idea of requesting permission to stay at Hogwarts for the summer holidays, but she remembered how terrible it had been staying for Christmas. Though she hated Privet Drive, she would go back to avoid the boredom and loneliness - and she would be damned if she let her relatives impose it on her anyway. When she had left, they had been quite scared of her, and she would make sure that they stayed that way so that she could enjoy her summer for the first time in her life.

Hufflepuff lost the last match of the year against Slytherin, but it didn't matter; Cedric managed to catch the Snitch, meaning that the point difference was low enough to allow Hufflepuff to still come out on top. To say that the Hufflepuffs were overjoyed would be downplaying matters. Malcolm, in particular, was quite pleased; he had had a great grin plastered on his face ever since Professor Dumbledore had presented him with the Quidditch Cup. The resulting victory party had been the biggest yet, and even Professor Sprout had lended a hand towards the festivities by bringing them a lot of snacks and sweets that weren't stored in the Hogwarts kitchen. Malcolm told Linnea to get the best broom she possibly could; remembering the gold that was sitting in her vault, she knew that she wouldn't have any trouble doing so.

They had gotten their examination results just the day before. Hermione was the top of the class followed closely by Su; Linnea came in fourth, Pansy sixth and Leanne seventh. Each of them was very pleased with their performance; Linnea got O's in Charms, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Potions, Astrology, Herbology and - to her incredulity - Transfiguration, with her only E being in Magical History. She didn't get the highest marks in any subject, but she didn't care; she had done as well as she could have hoped for.

With the Great Hall close to being full, Su, Pansy and Hermione had to go to their house tables, as they couldn't eat at each others' during a major feast. When all the students had finally taken their seats, Professor Dumbledore stood to address the school.

'Another year has gone,' he said, his arms wide and smiling. 'Much has happened for us to be thankful for. There are those among you who will not be coming back to us next year; I wish the current batch of seventh years all the best as they leave to take their places in the Wizarding community.' There was some clapping for the seventh years, who looked pleased to be done with school but also sad to leave Hogwarts behind. 'It is now time for the awarding of the House Cup and the points stand thus: in fourth place, Gryffindor, with three hundred and ninety-six points; in third place, Ravenclaw, with four hundred and twenty-two points; in second place, Slytherin, with four hundred and fifty-three points and in first place, for the first time in as long as anyone alive can remember, Hufflepuff, with four hundred and eighty-eight points.'

The noise that came from the Hufflepuff table was such that many of the people in the Great Hall had to clap their hands over their ears. Every Hufflepuff was on their feet; they were screaming with joy, hugging each other and stamping their feet in the rhythm of Helga Hufflepuff. It took a few minutes for the din to die down, but the smiles on the faces of the Hufflepuff students could never be diminished.

'A job well done, Hufflepuff! I do, however, have a few last minute points to dish out; they will certainly not change the winner of the House Cup, but I think that these individuals' actions are worthy of notice.

'I would like to award an additional fifty points each to Pansy Parkinson, Leanne Taylor, Su Li, Hermione Granger and Linnea Potter; their efforts in defending an artifact charged to the protection of Hogwarts is not soon to be forgotten. Their great courage and loyalty to the school and each other is something to be greatly celebrated. Hogwarts is very lucky to have you.'

Professor Dumbledore gave a slight bow. The girls were desperately trying to hide in their seats as each of their housemates' eyes turned towards them; Linnea could feel her face growing very hot, but she was smiling all the way.

'Well, that's that, and I think it's time to get our decorations up,' Professor Dumbledore said happily; he clapped his hands and great banners and hangings with the Hufflepuff colors and crest appeared all over the Great Hall. He took the silver House Cup, which had been lying innocently on the Head Table, and presented it to Professor Sprout, who looked to be close to tears. She raised the Cup high into the air, and the Hufflepuffs once again went into a frenzy of merriment.

'I never thought that I'd live to see Hufflepuff win the House Cup,' Tonks said, wiping a fake tear from her eye.

'Don't forget the Quidditch Cup,' Malcolm said, that stupidly huge smile still on his face.

Professor Dumbledore clapped his hands again and food instantly appeared on the tables. 'And now, I think it is time we begin our feast - tuck in!'

The students all dove towards what they wanted and piled it high on their plates. Linnea couldn't believe how happy she was; she was quite certain that that moment of victory for her house was the happiest that she had ever felt…

* * *

The girls were closeted in a compartment of their own on the Hogwarts Express. Where they were in their journey they didn't know, but they had been going for almost an hour-and-a-half. They talked about the year they had had, and what their plans for the summer were. Hermione was going on an overseas trip with her parents at some point; Pansy, Su and Leanne had no idea what they might get up to yet. Linnea was itching to get to Gringotts, make a big withdrawal and go on her first ever shopping spree; she hadn't bought many clothes for herself while in London the last time, since she would be mainly wearing her school uniform and robes at Hogwarts. She also wanted to buy a few books to tide her over for the two months of she had before going back for her second year, as they were not allowed to use magic during the holidays.

'Well, after Hermione comes back from her trip, you're all going to come visit me - no excuses,' Leanne said happily; she was looking at Linnea in particular as she added the last part.

'I'll see if I can convince my father to let me come, but I haven't got much hope,' said Pansy. 'Send us owls when you want us to drop by, will you?' Leanne easily agreed to the request.

'Hermione, Su - here's my phone number,' Linnea said, writing the number down on a piece of parchment and giving it to each of them while Leanne and Pansy looked mystified. 'Call me; it would be fun if we could meet up sometimes.'

They kept talking, laughing and joking amongst themselves until finally, the Hogwarts Express slowed down and came to a stop at Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. Linnea grabbed her trunk from the luggage rack and Abell's carrier and lugged them off the train; she kept a copy of the evening edition of yesterday's _Daily Prophet_ in her hand, ready for her plan to keep her relatives in check.

'Hey, everyone, put your luggage down for a bit and come meet my mum.'

Leanne led her friends over to a woman who looked very much like an older version of herself.

'Ah, so this is the famous quintet,' Mrs Taylor said, smiling down at all of them. 'It's very nice to meet all of you. I must say, you've caused quite a stir; I've never heard of first years having such an adventure. Now, let me see if I can guess who's who.'

Mrs Taylor pointed at each of them in turn and guessed what their names were based off the article; she got them all right.

'Very Ravenclaw of you, Mum,' Leanne said with a roll of her eyes before she gave her mother a quick hug. 'Mum, I invited them to spend some time at our house this summer - is that okay?'

'Of course it is,' Mrs Taylor said with an airy wave of her hand. 'I daresay your brother would be quite excited about the idea; he is rather obsessed with you, Lin.'

'Er…' Linnea said stupidly as her friends laughed at her and Mrs Taylor smirked.

They stayed a while longer and met Pansy's mother, a pleasant and striking woman, and Hermione's parents; Su was going to take a taxi home as her parents hadn't been able to come pick her up. The adults were concerned at first, but she assured them that she was well versed in taking care of herself. And so it was that Linnea and Su crossed the barrier to the Muggle world together after saying goodbye to their friends, whose parents were happily chatting with each other.

Linnea was very surprised to see Aunt Petunia standing there waiting for her; she had been planning to take the Knight Bus. She hugged Su goodbye and followed the horsey woman out to the train station's parking lot, where she could see Uncle Vernon and Dudley in the car. She heaved her trunk into the boot and got into the backseat alongside Dudley, _Daily Prophet_ in hand and Abell's carrier on her lap. Uncle Vernon immediately left the station and drove off towards Privet Drive.

'Hello, Dudley - did you have a good school year?' Linnea asked pleasantly, turning to her cousin.

'It wasn't bad,' Dudley mumbled uncomfortably.

Linnea smiled and looked at her aunt and uncle. 'Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia - would you like to see how well I did in my exams?'

'What do I care?' Uncle Vernon asked gruffly. 'I don't pay for you to attend that school.'

'Oh, okay,' Linnea said in a convincingly disappointed voice. 'Would you like to see the article in the paper about me, then?'

'What are you talking about? Why would you be in the news?'

'I'm very famous in the Wizarding world,' Linnea explained sweetly while unfolding the _Daily Prophet_. 'Every magical person in Britain knows my name. They wrote an article about my first year in yesterday's paper. I had a very good time, except for the end; I had to kill my teacher, you see -'

Uncle Vernon nearly crashed into another car as he swerved the steering wheel in alarm. Linnea resisted laughing out loud; her plan was already working very well.

'What are you talking about?' Aunt Petunia asked as Dudley stared at Linnea in horror while trying to edge away from her.

'Here, read the last four paragraphs of this article.' Linnea passed the _Daily Prophet_ to her aunt, whose eyes grew wider with fear as they traveled down the article; Linnea's smile grew wider with joy.

'Self-defense,' Aunt Petunia whispered. From the look on her face, you would think that she had just been informed that she would without a doubt die the next day, not that Linnea was complaining; her expression instantly convinced her husband that what Linnea was saying was true and they had undoubtedly gotten the message: leave Linnea alone. She could practically see it in their faces.

Linnea begun humming as she happily pictured what possibilities her summer holidays could hold.


	15. Curious Cousins

**Author's Notes:**

Hello everyone, thanks for reading the story and staying with me so far :-) I realize that I've never actually written any author's notes before this, and I haven't really been sure if this is good or bad - please let me know if you can. I just had some things to let you know of before getting started on Linnea's summer.

First, I've changed the length of Linnea's wand to fourteen inches. There is a reason for this, but it will come out later in the story.

Second, I've changed Abell's breed from a white cat to a Siberian cat - she's still white in color, though.

Lastly, I've changed Nicholas Flamel's reward to the girls to be one hundred thousand Galleons each. The reason for this is because after thinking about it, I found ten thousand Galleons each to be a measly amount from someone who has had over six hundred years to amass wealth, and he would certainly have been motivated to give them much more seeing as how the girls were fighting for his and his wife's lives.

Well, that's all; I hope you enjoy reading the chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it :-)

* * *

Linnea had been at Privet Drive for four days now. So far, the Dursleys had kept her message well in mind, and had stayed out of her way; they mostly acted as if she didn't exist, which suited her just fine. She hadn't gotten up to much; she spent most of her time in her room unwinding from the exertion of the school year. Su and Hermione had called her to make sure that she had gotten home all right. The Dursleys letting her anywhere near the telephone was a hitherto unimaginable act, and she had no doubt that they would have indeed stopped her without the threat of magic hanging over their heads. They were scared - and she liked it.

Something else that she would never have pictured before was also happening: Aunt Petunia didn't have her running around the house like a slave doing chores. In fact, her aunt didn't ask her to do anything. For once, Aunt Petunia acted the part of a housewife and did all of the housekeeping. She had been unsure of what would happen in regard to her chores, but she had gotten her answer on the morning after her arrival at Number Four; when she went to the kitchen to fix breakfast, she had found Aunt Petunia there - fixing breakfast. She had almost laughed out loud at the sight, and was tempted to "place her order" to her aunt but she managed to resist. Every meal since then had been prepared by Aunt Petunia, but that wasn't entirely good; the one thing that Linnea had missed about Privet Drive when she had been at Hogwarts was cooking. She dearly wanted to cook again.

And so she made her way downstairs to the living room on the fifth evening of her summer holidays to find the Dursleys all watching television. As usual, they gave no indication that there in fact lived a young girl in the house, so she loudly cleared her throat to make sure that she had their attention.

'Dear family,' she said sweetly, 'I've decided that I will cook dinner this evening if it's all the same to you.'

She knew that the Dursleys knew as well as she did that she wasn't asking. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon glanced at each other while Dudley went slightly white but kept staring firmly at the television. Linnea wondered if they thought that she would poison them or something. Well, she _had_ fed them potions before, she supposed.

'Er,' Uncle Vernon croaked; he cleared his throat and tried again. 'Er, yes, we don't mind at all, gir - I mean, Linnea. W - What do you plan on cooking?'

'I think stewed chicken with vegetable fried rice and greens will do nicely,' Linnea answered thoughtfully, 'assuming that all the ingredients I would need are available. Are they?' Aunt Petunia didn't look at her as she nodded sharply and Linnea's smile widened. 'Brilliant, I'll get started right away. Oh, and I'll be heading out to London tomorrow.'

'London?' Uncle Vernon repeated, a little of his bravery returning in the wake of his confusion. 'Why are you going to London?'

'I'd like to do some well-earned - and much overdue - shopping,' replied Linnea.

'Shopping? But you don't have any money!'

'On the contrary, Uncle, I have a lot of money. My parents left me some gold at Gringotts, the Wizarding bank.'

'Gold?' Dudley finally turned to look at her; he was wearing a gobsmacked expression.

'Yes, Dudley, gold - the shiny yellow stuff that everyone loves because it can get you things,' Linnea confirmed, watching Dudley's face drop at her insinuation of him being less than intelligent. 'And not just gold - I have a lot of silver and bronze in my vault, as well. I got a reward for my efforts at Hogwarts and I think the money will go a long way in helping me spoil myself rotten this summer.'

The Dursleys were now all staring at her, mouths open in shock. She raised her eyebrows in a show of innocence. 'Is something wrong, family?'

'Er, no, of course not, gir - Linnea,' Uncle Vernon said with an attempt at a smile that merely came out as a grimace. 'Do you want me to drop you off?'

'Oh, no, that won't be necessary,' answered Linnea, shaking her head dramatically. 'I just wanted you all to know so that you wouldn't wonder where I am or what I might be planning - I mean, what I'll be up to when I suddenly vanish.'

Linnea was having the time of her life; she would never have thought that staying at Privet Drive could be so much fun. She watched various emotions flicker across her relatives' faces and took great joy in having caused them. Her use of the word "planning" had been intentional, and she had hoped that they would catch onto its implications - and they delightfully had. They tried to hide it, but she could see that they were worried.

'That's quite all right, Linnea,' Aunt Petunia said with a forced smile.

'I'll go and prepare dinner then. Oh, and please call me "Lin", would you?' Linnea said brightly and skipped to the kitchen.

Once she got to her destination, she broke down in a fit of giggles. Her plan had worked out much better than she had thought. She had been sure that with a year of her absence from Privet Drive, the Dursleys would have forgotten how frightened of her they were when she discovered that she was a witch; Rita Skeeter's article had come at a very opportune time, giving her a lot of ammunition to threaten them with. She would have to send the reporter a thank you note and a cookie.

Though she was glad that threatening the Dursleys to make them treat her civilly was much easier than she could have dreamed, she had wondered why they would keep someone they feared so much in their house. She found her answer when she read the article again. Professor Dumbledore was the one who had her come to be raised by the Dursleys. She was also sure that he was the one that had dropped her off on Number Four's doorstep, as she had pieced together from the _Daily Prophet_ that no one else in the Wizarding world - except Hagrid - seemed to have any idea where she lived - only that it was in the Muggle world. Linnea was therefore willing to bet that Professor Dumbledore either had something damning on the Dursleys that _made_ them keep her, or was giving them something invaluable in return for offering her asylum. She was less than pleased.

She could understand the Wizarding world's fascination with her, but Professor Dumbledore seemed to have a vested interest in her, and she couldn't, for the life of her, understand just what that could be. She didn't mind having someone looking out for her welfare, but the meeting with the Headmaster at the end of the school year had unnerved her. Why was he so interested in her feelings? As far as Linnea knew, that was more the domain of a Head of House, rather than the Headmaster - though admittedly there was a dead Hogwarts teacher involved. Nevertheless, she didn't see why Professor Dumbledore always seemed to want to involve himself whenever it came to her. And why had he looked at her like she was the worst of criminals whenever she had deviated from any of his opinions on how she should have been feeling and acting concerning the ordeal with Professor Quirrell? And then she finds out that he was the one who brought her to Privet Drive.

Why? Had it been her parents' wish? Somehow she doubted that; she would not believe for a second that her parents would want her to be raised by people who feared and hated magic. Besides, if it was a case of her parents' wishes, then Professor Dumbledore would have told the Wizarding community that - it would have shut them up at once. But if the article was any indication, he had claimed no such thing. So why did Professor Dumbledore bring her to Privet Drive all those years ago - and just what gave him the right?

She blinked and looked around; she hadn't been paying any attention to her actions, and was therefore surprised to find that she had already prepared everything she needed to cook dinner. Tomatoes, onions, sweetcorn, green pepper, carrots, paprika - she hadn't noticed that she had been cutting, shelling and grinding everything up while she was trapped in her thoughts. She hurriedly put the knife down and took out all the utensils she would need from the cabinets and started cooking. Soon, the kitchen was filled with the heavenly smell of what promised to be a delicious meal. She was a bit rusty thanks to her not cooking for an entire year, but she was very pleased with the results. She could tell that the Dursleys were too, though she would wager they would rather eat their own tongues than admit that to her. When they were finished, Aunt Petunia rose to her feet and made to clear and wash the dishes, but Linnea waylaid her and said that she would do it. Rather than look grateful, the Dursleys seemed to get even more anxious.

Linnea's thoughts turned once more towards the Headmaster of Hogwarts. She would dearly like to ask him all the disconcerting questions that had popped up in her mind, but she couldn't; she was beginning to see the wisdom in getting an owl for a pet, though she loved Abell very dearly. Just like Linnea, Abell was quite pleased with the Dursleys ignoring her whenever they could afford to. She strutted around Number Four as though she owned the place, and not even Aunt Petunia would tell her off when she leapt onto the kitchen counter or the squishy couches in the living room. Linnea was, however, firm, and instructed Abell not to claw at anything or she would lock her in her carrier for a week as punishment, and to avoid going outside as much as possible or she could be spotted and kidnapped by Mrs Figg, their batty, cat-obsessed neighbor. Even if she did escape Mrs Figg's clutches, Linnea swore to Abell that for every time she went outside that didn't involve doing her business, she would get a bath. Abell had meowed in protest at these restrictions, but she had so far followed them to a tee.

Since she was going to go to Diagon Alley anyway, Linnea supposed that she could send Professor Dumbledore an owl from there; she was sure that there was some sort of post office somewhere along the Wizarding shopping street. She would send letters to Leanne and Pansy too. With this thought in mind, she rinsed the last of the china and went up to her bedroom. _Strange_, she thought as she approached the door - it was wide open. She quietly peeked around the corner of the doorway.

She found quite the scene awaiting her. Abell was sitting on the desk by the window, staring unblinkingly at Dudley, who was sitting on the bed, trying to pry the diary that Su had gotten her open. Linnea knew at the back of her mind that she should be in a towering temper, but it was curbed by curiosity and blatant consternation. Besides, the diary didn't really contain anything too personal; she had indeed started writing in it, but rather than her feelings, she had found herself writing down her thoughts, theories and observations made during her time at Hogwarts, as well as some useful tidbits of information which included a collection of her favorite spells. She knew that even if he did get a look at what was inside, Dudley wouldn't understand a word.

She stepped into the room and said perkily, 'I'm sorry, Dudley, but it only opens for me.'

She wouldn't have believed that Dudley could jump if she hadn't seen it with her own eyes. He froze as he looked at her, fear evident on every fiber of his being. Abell meowed in a satisfied sort of way, as though telling him that she had warned him and he was now in for a world of pain. While slipping Dudley something like a botched Cure for Boils for his breach in her privacy wasn't far from her mind, Linnea was more keen on getting an explanation as to what he was doing.

'Why do you want to read that, Dudley?' she asked, tilting her head. Dudley must have been thinking that his days were numbered, because he was starting to sweat while he opened and closed his mouth silently like a fish out of water. 'What's wrong, Dudley? You aren't afraid of a tiny little girl like me, are you?'

Dudley winced. He was afraid and she knew it. Dudley Dursley had never been afraid of any other children in the entirety of his soon-to-be twelve years, and yet here he was sweating a lake at the sight of a girl less than half his size. He had never had cause to fear her before, of course, but Dudley now knew that Linnea could do things to him - things far worse and likely more permanent than what he could do to her.

Curiosity still nibbling at the back of her brain, Linnea crossed over to her desk and picked up her wand, then went over to her cousin, who was cowering as much as his vast frame could permit. She tapped the lock on the diary with the yew wand and it instantly clicked open.

Dudley looked up at her, confusion and trepidation written all over his face.

'Go on,' Linnea said as she went to close the door then proceeded to sit on the bed beside him, 'read it.'

Dudley opened the diary and rifled through the pages, staring down at the words that indeed did not make a lick of sense to him. He looked up at her again.

'I don't understand anything,' he said dimly.

'Of course you don't - you would need to have gone to Hogwarts to understand a lot of what is written there,' Linnea explained patiently. 'You know, Dudley, it's very unbecoming to be found in a girl's bedroom without her permission, even if we are related - more so when you're caught rifling through that girl's property. May I ask why you were so intent on reading my diary?'

Dudley went just as white as he had been in the living room in front of the television. He looked down at the floor, still as a statue and said nothing. Abell gave another meow as though mocking the thickset boy.

Linnea's brain, on the other hand, was quickly whirling. She knew that this was an opportunity to put so much fear into Dudley that he would scream in terror at the mere thought of her. But she was very curious as to what he had been trying to find in her diary, and what he would have done with it. After a fierce battle, her need to know won out.

Feeling a little like she was diving into a pool of mud, Linnea placed a gentle hand on Dudley's arm and said softly, 'It's okay, Dudley, I'm not mad. You can tell me - I promise I won't do anything bad to you.'

Dudley looked up at her again, blue eyes gazing into grey. After a long silence, he said timidly, 'I - I wanted to know.'

'Know what?'

'What your school is like.'

Linnea blinked. Dudley wanted to know about Hogwarts. She would never have seen that coming.

'Why?' she asked, not able to keep the confusion out of her voice.

'It - It sounds - I think it's cool,' Dudley muttered.

'You think magic is cool?' Linnea could hear how ridiculous she sounded when her voice was weighed down with so much disbelief.

Dudley gave a little nod and fell silent. Linnea was quite certain that she was more surprised at what Dudley was saying than she had been at anything she had seen at Hogwarts - and she had seen more than what an ordinary student should. She kept staring at Dudley in silence until he started to fidget uncomfortably.

'You're really pretty,' he said abruptly.

Linnea frowned. 'I'm your cousin, Dudley,' she pointed out, surreptitiously poking his leg with her wand.

'I didn't mean it like that,' Dudley said quickly, glancing down at the wooden stick in Linnea's hand with unrestricted fear. 'I don't think about you like that, but I still think you're pretty. D'you remember Victoria Wilson?'

Ah, dear Victoria - how could she ever forget her? She had been Linnea's chief tormentor among the girls in their primary school days. She nodded in answer to Dudley's question and he said, 'She was really jealous of how pretty you are; a lot of boys thought you were better than her, and that's why she hated you so much.'

'You're lying.' It wasn't an accusation, it was a statement.

'It's true,' Dudley insisted.

'Then why didn't any of the boys come talk to me?' Even as she asked, Linnea already knew the answer to her question.

'Because of me,' her cousin muttered. 'I beat up any of the boys who wanted to talk to you.'

'Why?' demanded Linnea. 'Because you're a bully and that's what you do?'

Dudley remained silent for a long time before he answered, saying, 'I was jealous of you - how smart you are and how you always got good grades; you always made me feel really stupid. I felt stupid especially when you wouldn't say anything when me and the others teased you and laughed at you. So I took it out on you and the other kids. I'm sorry.'

Linnea was very tempted to slap herself to make sure she wasn't asleep and having some bizarre dream; she couldn't believe what he had just confessed to her - and she especially couldn't believe the last two words he had uttered. Dudley Dursley, fearsome local bully, was apologizing to Linnea Potter, social pariah extraordinaire - in the Muggle world, at least. She could picture angels falling out of the sky in shock. She was sure that something must have happened to have brought this on, and Linnea was beginning to have suspicions.

'Dudley, did something bad happen to you at school?' she asked. She knew a moment later that she had been right and went on to say, 'You don't have to tell me about it, but now you know how you make other people feel - it isn't very nice, is it?'

Dudley shook his head pathetically and Linnea felt a little pity for him well up inside her. Dudley had always been on top of the world, but it appeared that he had been violently cast down. It seemed their circumstances would remain opposite to the end. Linnea did something that only a few days ago would have had her shooting herself in disgust - she hugged Dudley.

He stiffened at first, both in surprise at having Linnea of all people hug him and actually getting a hug from a female that wasn't his mother or Aunt Marge. Linnea felt him hesitate to put his pudgy arms around her, but he eventually did so. They stayed that way for a long time, cousins who had previously been linked only by hatred now coming to some sort of understanding. When they pulled back from each other, Linnea could see that Dudley's eyes were a little watery.

She stared at him for a long time before she made her decision. 'Dudley, I'll be going into the Wizarding world for a bit while I'm in London tomorrow; would you like to come?'

He looked at her in disbelief for a long time before finally nodding. Abell meowed from her place on the desk, evidently expressing her own denial of the events unfolding in Linnea's bedroom.

'Can we talk tomorrow, then? I think I'd like to go to bed now.'

Dudley nodded and hastily stood and went towards the door; he paused at the doorway as though to say something but he seemed to change his mind and left without another word. Linnea locked the door behind him and stared around at her room without really seeing any of it. _Wow_, she thought numbly.

* * *

When the sun had just began to peek over the horizon, Linnea's eyes were to be found wide open. She had had a very restless night devoid of much sleep. The scene that had played itself out in her bedroom last night was haunting her. She still couldn't believe that Dudley had admitted to her that she had made him insecure and that had led to his being a bully. But she couldn't take all the credit for that; his parents, after all, did nothing to dissuade him from such behavior. Then he said that he was curious about Hogwarts - and then he had _apologized_ to her. She would never, in a million years, have thought Dudley capable of remorse, but she had seen it for herself. And then she had hugged him. Why did she do that? She had spent years plotting her revenge upon the Dursleys but when she had seen Dudley depressed for the first time in his life, she had sought to comfort him. She should be planning to feed him some terrible potion, not trying to make him feel better about himself.

But she had done it, and she couldn't change that. And she had invited Dudley to come to Diagon Alley with her in order to satisfy his curiosity and cheer him up. She had often heard of how boys would complain about girls being difficult to understand, and at the moment she agreed with them; she couldn't understand _herself_.

_Maybe it's because he called me pretty_, Linnea thought, turning in her bed to look at the sky outside her window. Linnea had never been called pretty in her life - the closest she had come was when Megan Jones said she had a "pretty little head". But why should she care that Dudley thought she was pretty anyway? She didn't like her cousin in any sense of the word. But maybe that's why it mattered - because it had come from someone who had hated her enough to make her life a miserable hell for ten years. And apparently another member of her "people who had to pay" list had been plenty jealous of her. Personally, she couldn't really tell if she was pretty, but she must be for her greatest enemies to think so - even Voldemort had said so, and he was no fan of Linnea Potter.

Was Dudley still her enemy, though? He had seemed sincere in her apology to her and Linnea could only imagine what could have been done to him at school to get him to that point. But there was no way she could just forget about the past ten years, regardless of whether he was apologetic or not. She was convinced that he deserved whatever recompense she was able to come up with - but could he deserve a second chance as well? She had given one to Ron after the troll incident, after all - and he had royally disappointed her. She had thought that she knew Ron well enough to decide that he was a good person, and look where that had led. Maybe she should give her cousin the benefit of the doubt…

Linnea thought about this for a long time before she decided to give Dudley a chance, but resolved that if he looked at her or anyone else in any way she didn't like, she would not hold back on his punishment. Her stomach told her that she needed to eat so she got up, made her bed and went down to the kitchen.

She found the Dursleys already seated at the table and eating. In front of the empty chair that she usually occupied nowadays was her own plate, covered with plastic film to keep the food warm. She sat down and dug in, once again enjoying the uncomfortable silence that seemed to follow her around the house. When it got to an unbearable level, Uncle Vernon turned on the television so that he could watch the morning news. Dudley was staring down at his plate and nothing else; Aunt Petunia looked as though she was about to be sick and Linnea herself was watching Dudley through narrowed eyes, trying to spot any deception in his behavior last night.

As soon as he finished his breakfast, Dudley put his fork down and said, 'Dad, I - I'm going to London with Lin.'

Linnea choked on her orange juice and almost spat it out at Aunt Petunia. Everyone was now looking at Dudley as though he had lost his marbles; Linnea had been expecting Dudley to change his mind - and even if he hadn't, she wouldn't have thought that he would announce that he wished to accompany the freak of the house.

'W - What did you say, Dudders?' Aunt Petunia asked hoarsely.

'M - Mum, I - I think I'd like you to call me "Dudley" from now on; I'm not a baby any more,' Dudley mumbled, still staring down at his plate.

Linnea glanced at the window to make sure that the apocalypse wasn't indeed upon them. It seemed that Dudley was just full of surprises this summer. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon apparently agreed, because they were staring at him in shock. Dudley stood up, looked at Linnea and said, 'You should go to the bathroom first - I'll wait until you're finished.'

And now he was being a gentleman - or as close to one as Dudley could possibly be. What next - was he going to announce that he would dearly like to be the lead singer in the church choir? Linnea stared along with her aunt and uncle as he hurriedly left the kitchen; he rushed up the stairs, taking the steps two at a time before they heard him shut his bedroom door. Silence permeated the room until Uncle Vernon turned to her.

'What have you done to our son?' he asked, trying to sound accusatory and intimidating but only succeeding in convincing Linnea that he was very worried.

'I haven't done _anything_ to him,' she replied, her eyes wide. 'He was acting very strange last night as well. But in all honesty, I think it's a marvelous change.'

'What are you trying to say?' Aunt Petunia demanded a little hotly. 'Dudders is a perfect boy and -'

'According to you, maybe - not so much according to the kids he's made hate their lives, me included,' Linnea interrupted coldly. 'Almost everyone in the neighborhood hates him - almost, if not more than they hate me. I'm sure you realize how meaningful that assessment is. All you've been doing is spoiling Dudley, but it looks like he finally got what was coming to him at school. Maybe there's hope for him despite your influence.'

Her aunt and uncle did not look at all pleased at being called bad parents by an eleven-year-old girl, but Linnea could see hints of shame and worry in their eyes. She downed the rest of her orange juice and went upstairs to get ready; she took a nice, hot shower, put on a plaid pinafore dress over a long-sleeved black blouse and tights - all of which she had bought last year - and tried to brush her hair only to end up annoyed with it again. She put her wand up her sleeve and had to wait only twenty minutes before Dudley was ready to go. Still wondering if her first year at Hogwarts had driven her completely insane, Linnea went out the door of Number Four, her cousin ambling along behind her.

She took out her wand and flagged the Knight Bus. When it stopped in front of them, Stan Shunpike, the conductor, appeared in the doorway and before he could go into his rehearsed greeting, Linnea said, 'Hello, Stan.'

Stan looked up and when he recognized her, smiled widely.

'Hey, Ernie, it's Linnea Potter again,' he said excitedly. 'You sure do call us a lot; you must be a busy person.'

'I do my best,' Linnea replied with a smile. Before she could say anything else, however, Dudley asked, 'Who are you talking to?'

She turned to see Dudley staring at her as though he thought she had gone off her rocker. Linnea took a moment to remember that Muggles couldn't see or hear the Knight Bus and its passengers. She looked at Stan, who was staring at Dudley with great interest.

'Muggle, is he?' he guessed. 'Just hold his hand to help him onto the bus and he'll be fine.'

Linnea frowned. 'Hold his hand? Seriously?'

'I could help him myself,' Stan offered.

Linnea nodded appreciatively and jumped onto the double-decker bus without another word; she took the nearest seat and watched with great amusement as Dudley fearfully stepped onto the Knight Bus. His eyes widened and he hastily made his way towards her, staring around all the while. He sat next to her but that didn't last very long; not expecting a rough ride, he was thrown all over the bus throughout the journey with Stan chortling delightedly all the while. Though she had wondered before why they didn't fix the furniture down with magic, Linnea appreciated the morning's entertainment immensely. When they finally pulled up in front of the Leaky Cauldron, Dudley was red in the face and looking quite upset.

'What was that?' he asked her in a very annoyed voice.

'Sorry, I just thought you'd like to experience the joys of Wizarding travel,' Linnea replied innocently as she stepped into the Leaky Cauldron; she could hear Dudley grumbling behind her and she smiled happily.

The pub was still quite empty with breakfast time already over. She strode towards the back of the pub and tapped the brick wall with her wand in the sequence she had thankfully committed to memory last year. As they fell upon themselves, she heard Dudley gasp in wonder - and gasp even louder when the archway appeared. Linnea set forth once again, saying, 'Try to keep up, will you, Dudley? We wouldn't want you to end up as an ingredient in some witch's potion, would we?'

She smiled as she heard her cousin scamper to keep close by her. She could see the awe and excitement she had felt when she had first come to Diagon Alley reflected in his face.

'Lin, what is this place?' he asked, his eyes wide.

'It's called Diagon Alley,' answered Linnea, making her way towards Gringotts. 'It's sort of a shopping district in the Wizarding world. We'll be going to Gringotts, the bank, first. Please keep your mouth shut while we're there, Dudley; the goblins that run the place don't stand for insults of any kind.'

The two cousins walked together until they entered Gringotts; Linnea heard Dudley gasp again at the sight of the goblins. He kept practically at her shoulder as she made her way to a free teller.

'Excuse me,' she said brightly, 'I'd like to make a withdrawal from my account.' She took out her vault key from the clutch purse in her hand and passed it to the goblin, who was holding out an expectant hand. He examined it for a few moments and then said in a shrewd voice, 'Ah, Miss Potter, it is good to have you here at Gringotts.'

'Thank you. May I inquire what amount is in my vault at the moment?'

The goblin wrote something on a piece of parchment and the large ledger in front of him immediately began flipping pages. When it stopped, he looked down at it through his monocle and said, 'The current amount is one hundred and forty-seven thousand, three hundred and twenty-seven Galleons, eleven Sickles and twenty-two Knuts. A deposit for one hundred thousand Galleons was made two weeks ago, is that right?'

'Yes, that's correct,' Linnea confirmed. 'I had another query: I was told that this vault was left to me by my parents - but what about them? Where did they keep their own gold? Did they have accounts separate from my own?'

The goblin looked down at the ledger and answered, 'There are indeed more vaults that belong to you as the last of the Potter line; however, in accordance with your parents' wishes, you will not have any specific knowledge of them until you turn sixteen.'

Though she had been expecting such a response, Linnea was surprised that she indeed did have more money waiting for her somewhere. She was disappointed that she couldn't really do anything about it, and was itching to know just how much she had. Regardless, she nodded and told the goblin that she was ready to go down to her vault; he called another goblin over who led them to the underground catacombs navigated by speeding carts. Dudley screamed in delight throughout the entire ride, much to the annoyance of their goblin companion. They disembarked when they reached her vault, and when he got a look at what was inside, Dudley gave his loudest gasp yet.

Linnea felt weak in the knees; she had been absolutely floored by the amount of money she had found there last year, but with Nicholas Flamel's contribution, she doubted very much that she could spend even a quarter of it by the time she left Hogwarts. She took out the pouch she kept for Wizarding money out of her purse and dropped handfuls of Galleons into it; she didn't want to keep making trips to Gringotts whenever she wanted to go shopping.

'I think you're richer than my parents,' Dudley said quietly, envy dripping from his words.

'I suppose that's possible, though I couldn't say for sure,' answered Linnea. When she had had her fill of gold coins, she turned towards the goblin who was guiding them and said, 'Could I have two other pouches, please? I hate mixing the different coins together.' The goblin nodded and snapped his fingers, causing two more pouches to pop into existence; Linnea supposed that it was a very common request. She filled one with Sickles and the other with Knuts and once satisfied, got back on the cart with her two companions and made her way back up to the main floor of Gringotts. Once she had converted what she hoped would be enough of the money to pounds, they left the Wizarding bank.

Once they stepped out into the sun, Linnea looked around at Dudley and asked brightly, 'So what do you think so far?'

Dudley was looking at her as though seeing her in a whole new light. 'You - You're rich!' he exclaimed.

Linnea frowned and said, 'Really? You've seen a Wizarding shopping street, met a few goblins and discovered that there are underground catacombs running underneath London and the thing that you've appreciated the most is that your cousin has money?'

Dudley had the good grace to look abashed.

'I didn't bring you here to show off to you, Dudley; I don't need to do that, no matter what may have happened in the past. I thought you were genuinely curious about the Wizarding world and let you tag along so that you could see it for yourself. I thought it would help you feel better - though why I care about how you feel I can't figure out. I honestly thought that you were being sincere last night, but it seems I was wrong.'

'No, I wasn't lying, I really do want to see what it's like,' Dudley said quickly and desperately. 'I'm sorry, I was just surprised.'

Linnea looked at him for a long time and seeing no sign of trickery, sighed and started walking towards Flourish and Blotts with her cousin following meekly behind her. The store was much as it had been last year, but it was virtually empty. She browsed the shelves for about half an hour, occasionally explaining something to Dudley. She bought herself _The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 2_, which she was sure would be on the list of set books, _Transfiguration Made Easy_,_ Charms for the Ambitious Apprentice_, _Gauntlet: A Comprehensive Guide to Wizard Dueling _and _The Dark Arts Confounded: A Beginning in Defensive Spellwork_. She also got Dudley _A Compendium of the Wizarding World for Muggles_. He was very surprised that she would buy him anything, but quickly regretted it when she told him that she would ask him questions then and again to know whether he was actually reading it. If he didn't pass her test, she would feed him a potion that would make boils appear somewhere he would particularly not want them.

From the bookstore, Linnea made her way to Pottage's Cauldron Shop. She had kept her ingredients kit well stocked throughout the year using owl orders, so she didn't need to visit the Apothecary. She did, however, want some new brewing equipment, specifically a self-stirring rod, self-cutting knife and self-grinding pestle, all of which she had heard about from older students. What she already owned was still in good condition, but she was more than willing to part with four Galleons and thirteen Sickles for the chance to further her skill in Potions. She had read that Potions Masters were the heaviest users of such items as they generally produced better results; however, they were more difficult to use as you had to provide them with very specific instructions. Linnea wasn't at all bothered with that. Each item came with a small instruction booklet, and she looked forward to practising with them over the summer.

Finally, they went to the shop that Linnea had been looking forward to visiting the most: Quality Quidditch Supplies.

The shop was warm and pleasantly smelled of polished wood. Every surface was laden with Quidditch equipment from broomsticks and Quaffles to Quidditch robes and protective gear. The only patrons in the shop were mostly teenagers, all delightedly discussing the various broomsticks on display. Linnea turned to Dudley, who was looking around with his mouth slightly open, as it had been at the cauldron shop.

'They sell Quidditch supplies here,' she explained. 'Quidditch is a sport in the Wizarding world, lots of fun. It's played up in the air on broomsticks, which is why you can see so many brooms on sale here. I can't really explain clearly enough right now -'

At that moment, she spotted a large sheet of parchment on which a Quidditch match was playing out. She told Dudley to follow her and made her way over to it. As they watched, she explained the rules, objectives and positions of the game; before long, Dudley was staring in awe and excitement at the parchment. When she was finished with her explanation, he looked up at her and asked, 'But why did you want to come here?'

'Because I'm on the house Quidditch team and I need to buy myself a decent broom.'

'You play _this_?' Dudley asked, eyes widened while he gestured at the parchment.

'Yeah,' Linnea answered with a nod. 'I might buy some protective gear too, in fact - that last match with Slytherin was terrible; they tried very hard to put me out of commission. Some new robes would be welcome as well. I don't really like using the ones in the changing room.'

'You're really buying a lot of stuff,' Dudley observed dimly.

'Yes, that's why they call it a shopping spree, dear cousin,' Linnea said patiently. She knew that she was spending a lot, but she also knew that it wouldn't make much of a dent to her vault.

'Hello, can I help you?' a handsome young man asked them with a brilliant smile.

'Yes, I'm in the market for a broomstick, robes and protective gear,' answered Linnea.

'You play Quidditch?' the shop attendant asked in surprise, looking her up and down as though taking in her size.

A little annoyed, Linnea said, 'Yes, I do. I play for Hufflepuff at Hogwarts, so I'll need the Quidditch robes and other equipment to be in Hufflepuff colors. I'll also need my name on the back - it's Potter, number seven.'

Her name had just the effect she was hoping for; the attendant fell all over himself trying to apologize for his reaction to her playing Quidditch. She told him that it was no problem, and would dearly like the best equipment that was available in the shop. He hurriedly complied, taking her and Dudley to the back so that her measurements could be taken for her Quidditch robes and protective gear. Once they were done with that, the attendant, who introduced himself as Davis, took them back towards the front section of the shop, where he opened a catalog of the broomsticks they had in stock.

'The latest in the Nimbus line is the Nimbus Two Thousand and One,' he was saying as he flipped to the page and showed them an illustration of the silver-and-black broomstick. 'It came out last month, so it's still very new. Brilliant performance, noticeably better than the Nimbus Two Thousand: faster - up to ninety-five miles an hour, more responsive and capable of reliable flight at heights of up to three hundred meters.'

'It looks great,' Linnea said appreciatively. 'Is there another one you would recommend?'

'Nimbus is the current market leader,' Davis said slowly, 'but one of the discontinued models has recently been picked up again; their first effort came out just a week after the Nimbus, so it hasn't gotten any attention at all.' He flipped to another page to show a gorgeous whitewood broomstick that looked to her to be sleek and curvy with a tail end of smooth, gold-colored twigs. 'This is the Moonripper, the successor of the Moontrimmer, which was last seen in nineteen-oh-two; the creator was working alone and couldn't deal with the demand. Lunar Broomsticks, a small, new company managed to get the original designs and decided to have a go at creating their own broomstick line. It's faster than the Nimbus Two Thousand and One - goes up to one hundred and twenty miles per hour - incredible - and has a higher acceleration as well; it's reliable at a height of up to one hundred and fifty meters. It seems like they sacrificed altitude, which is what the Moontrimmer was best at, for speed. It wouldn't be a good broomstick for a Seeker or a Beater, since they need a lot of freedom in height to keep track of Bludgers and Snitches.'

'It's a good thing that I'm a Chaser then, isn't it?' Linnea said with a smile.

'I suppose so,' Davis agreed with a smile of his own. 'I have to warn you, though: the broomstick looks and sounds good on paper, but it's still a little touch-and-go; like I said, the company that made it is still new and really small, so they weren't able to afford extensive testing and mass production - they only made twenty. We've only had three in stock from the time of its release and none of them have been bought; it doesn't have enough of a name to spark interest and the spotlight is currently on Nimbus broomsticks, since they're pretty popular in professional Quidditch right now.'

Linnea nodded at this information. She didn't really care if Lunar Broomsticks was run by a solitary elf; the Moonripper was absolutely beautiful, and she wouldn't mind owning it. But it wouldn't do for her to be swept away by its looks and ignore its performance…

'Do you have an area where I could test them?' she asked.

'Yes, we have a testing room just through the back - follow me.'

Davis led them once more to the back of the shop and went over to a collection of broom closets set against the wall.

'This is where we keep the broomsticks for customers to try out,' he explained as he took out a Nimbus Two Thousand and One and a Moonripper. He then took them through a door she hadn't noticed before and they entered a large room with a high, domed glass ceiling; on the far side of the room were the three raised hoops that served as goals. Their shoes squeaked against the polished wooden floor as they walked towards a casket that Linnea knew contained Quidditch balls. The shop attendant handed her the Nimbus and she promptly mounted and took off.

The first thing she realized was that the Nimbus Two Thousand and One and Tamsin Applebee's broom - a Cleansweep Seven - were worlds apart. The Nimbus made her feel like she had wings; it cut through the air easily and responded precisely as she intended. The air whipped her hair around as she flew a few laps around the room, steadily picking up speed. She heard Dudley give a whoop and looked down to see that he had a very impressed look on his face. She came to a stop and motioned to Davis, who threw the Quaffle towards her, which she deftly caught. She made a few attempts at the goals, always diving after the Quaffle as it fell to see if she could catch it before it hit the ground; she managed it, but with only a few feet left between her and the ground. Satisfied, she flew back towards her cousin and the shop attendant and landed.

'You're really good,' Dudley said enviously while Davis nodded enthusiastically.

'You've never seen anyone else fly, Dudley,' Linnea pointed out with a laugh.

'I know, but you looked really cool up there,' Dudley insisted.

Linnea raised an eyebrow, amazed at the compliments her cousin suddenly seemed to shower upon her. She didn't say anything but took the Moonripper and took it through its paces.

She immediately noticed its superiority in speed. Its responsiveness actually rivaled that of the Nimbus. She zoomed around the room and laughed as she felt how fast she was accelerating; she was sure nobody at school would be able to come anywhere near her on this broomstick. She did a few loops and dives and made more attempts on goal. She was delighted to find that she caught the Quaffle well away from the ground. Linnea couldn't understand what everyone's problem was; the Moonripper was quite simply amazing.

When she landed, she was grinning from ear to ear, which Davis rightly took to mean that she wanted the Moonripper.

'I think you might be the first person to buy this broom, Miss Potter,' he said as he took them back to the front of the shop.

'Well, good for me, then,' Linnea said brightly. 'If you see anyone from Lunar Broomsticks, tell them that I said they do good work.' When they were back at the front counter, they found her robes and equipment already done. The total cost came to three hundred and twenty-seven Galleons, which she charged to her Gringotts account as she didn't much feel like starting to count out three hundred coins from her pouch.

'What time is it?' Linnea asked as they left Quality Quidditch supplies. Dudley was carrying everything she had bought; she both smiled and frowned at how nice he was being to her.

'Almost lunch time,' Dudley answered with a glance at his watch.

'I just need to drop off some letters at the post office, then we can stop for some ice cream and you can go home; I'll be shopping for clothes in London after this and even I wouldn't subject you to that kind of torture.'

Dudley nodded and after she had sent off the letters she had written before sleeping the previous night (Dudley was amazed that wizards communicated using letters carried by owls), she led him to Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor. They both ordered atrociously large sundaes and started eating. The silence lasted for a few minutes before Dudley said, 'Thanks for bringing me here, Lin. I - I know I haven't been the best cousin to you -'

'You should stop reminding me; I might decide that I don't want to give you another chance,' interrupted Linnea. 'You seemed sincere last night and I'm hoping that you were - that's why I invited you along today. But make no mistake, if you do any sort of bullying or are mean to other kids from now on, I'll be anything but nice to you; when I'm done, you'll be begging to live in school, regardless of what happened to you there. Understand?'

Dudley gulped and nodded, which satisfied her for the time being. They ate their ice cream in a companionable silence before going through the Leaky Cauldron again and emerging in Muggle London. Dudley took a taxi home, bearing all of her purchases of the day. She stared at the car as it sped away, wondering if she was completely mental for hoping that Dudley might indeed be human. She shrugged and looked around for a shop that could help her obtain an entire new wardrobe, feeling like the biggest spender in all of Britain - and loving every second of it.


End file.
